


Farmboys

by rachelladeville



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Farmboy Dean, High School, Homophobic Language, Inconsequential background relationships and one nighters, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, mild drug use, mild voyerism, punk cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 86,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelladeville/pseuds/rachelladeville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s senior year. Dean has two priorities this summer. #1 Save up enough to buy the Impala from his Dad. #2 Have fun and make this the best summer of his life. Having the troubled son of a family friend stay with them over the summer? Definitely not part of the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Winchesters

**Author's Note:**

> Mistakes are plentiful and all mine :)

 

 

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you bring me your cap and gown from yesterday please?”

“Sure mom,” he answered as he dug through the piles of clothes scattered around his room. He tossed his graduation robe over his arm and plucked his cap from the dresser, unwinding the tassel from it hanging it from a knob on his dresser.

“Dean?”

“I’m coming!” he answered as he thundered down the stairs.

“If you’d clean up that waste dump you call a room… it wouldn’t take you ten minutes to find something you took off _last night_.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm but her face was warm as she heckled her son. He handed his things to her and moved to settle at the table. The sun was just coming up so the kitchen was still pretty dark with the exception of the light hanging over the stove. It was like a spotlight on the skillets – one of which held scrambled eggs and ham while the other was bubbling with oatmeal.

“Are there chocolate chips for the oatmeal?” he hollered.

“No,” she yelled from the laundry room, “but there’s berries!”

Dean crinkled his nose at the thought of oatmeal and fruit, choosing instead to spoon a giant pile of the egg dish onto his plate.

Just as he was sitting down at the table, his father bustled in. “Where’s your brother?” John asked as he settled in a chair and began lacing up his boots.

“Bathroom,” Dean answered. He listened as John clomped over and shouted up the stairs for Sammy telling him to get a move on.

“What’s the rush?” asked Dean through a mouthful of food.

“We’ve got Deacon today. Want to have the chores done by 10.”

Dean nodded, “Deacon from the corp?”

“The one and only,” grinned John, “that man would give ya the shirt off his back.”

“How long’s he staying?

“Just the day,” John answered, “but his son will be staying the summer.”

“What the hell for?” barked Dean, dropping his fork to his plate.

“Language,” chastised Mary as she walked past with a basket of laundry.

“Dean,” John replied, “the boy’s troubled. His dad thinks a little hard work and some time away from his friends will help. I’m inclined to agree. We’ve talked about this already.”

“Um… I remember you saying they _might_ visit…” said Dean as he grabbed the basket of biscuits from the center of the table, “… but you never said they were coming for _sure_. And you sure as hell never said they were stayin the whole damn summer.”

“Dean,” snapped Mary firmly from the next room, “Watch that mouth!”

John gave Dean a look and his voice took on a firm tone, “Well, I didn’t realize I had to clear my schedule with you, Dean. I am still the owner of this place, aint I? Besides, it’s just the boy stayin. Deacons heading back tonight. He’ll be back at the end of the summer to pick up his son.”

Dean buttered his biscuit in silence as he considered how this would affect his summer plans. Almost instantly a horrifying thought occurred to him, “Whose room is he sleepin in?” he barked.

“Yours I figured,” said John as he poured himself some juice, “You boys are the same age.”

Dean’s mouth pursed in discontent but before he could actually voice any concerns, Mary stepped up to the table and said, “Actually, John, I’ve been clearing out my sewing room for him. I just need that extra mattress brought down from the attic.” She had moved to the table now and was scraping the last of the eggs and ham onto the plate that would be Sam’s.

John gave Dean a pointed look and said, “Dean, you’ll take care of getting the mattress down when chores are done.”

Dean turned to object, but his dad beat him to the punch, “You’re the one that didn’t want to share your room. I should think that would be enough incentive to get up to the attic and provide the boy with an alternative.” Then John wrapped his arm around Mary and thanked her for her work getting the room ready and her willingness to give over her space.

“It just seemed more appropriate,” she smiled, “It’s not like he’s spending the night… or even the week. If he’s going to be here all summer he really should have his own space. A little privacy.”

“Dean,” snapped John, “I would think you could thank your mother for insuring his privacy - and yours.”

“Sure, Dad.” said Dean – still grumpy. He then turned to his mom who was dumping the breakfast pans into the sink and running water, “Thank you mom. Really. I’ll get the mattress for you as soon as I come in.”

“Thank you Dean,” she said sweetly. Then she turned towards the stairs and hollered, “Sam-my! Shake a tail feather or you won’t get any breakfast!”

The table got quiet as Dean and his father dug back into their food. Sam came fumbling down the steps with droopy eyes and settled in at his plate.

“Eggs are cold,” he grumbled as he forked at his food.

“Get to the table on time if you want it hot,” barked John. Dean chuckled and polished off the last of his food, leaning back in the chair. He’d put a lot of thought into how this summer was going to go. He had just graduated yesterday and was already set up to start at Kansas City Community College to start in fall. The way he saw it there were two priorities this summer. Job number one was to save up the $2000 that he still needed to buy the Impala from his dad. He’d coveted it for years. And when he left for college in the fall, he planned to drive away in it. Job number two this summer… was to have the time of his life. Last night, graduation night, he’d kicked off his summer with a bang. And he was dead set on enjoying the rest of it in a similar manner. He had the head cheerleader for his girl and his last summer of baseball to look forward to. Plus, his curfew had been abolished. His dad had told him that as long as he didn’t have trouble waking for his chores – he was a free man. Having a guest around the house for the summer didn’t seem like it would be an imposition now that there was no chance of having to share his room. He turned to watch his little brother polish off his last few bites.

When plates were empty, the three went out together into the first of the morning light. The chill of the night still lingered and the grass under their boots was wet with dew.

They parted company on the far end of the yard, John heading for the swine barn while the boys headed for the cattle barn. The barn was still dark inside and they flicked on the overhead lights as they went in. The animals were already stirring in their stalls.

Dean and Sam climbed the ladder into the giant hayloft. As young boys, they had played up here. The roof was high overhead, like a cathedral, and bales of hay were stacked nearly to the rafters in the back and then progressively shorter towards the front… it created a pyramid of steps to climb and reach the top. It was a necessary formation to make sure the top was always within reach – and that a wall of bales never fell on anyone. But for young boys – it was a playground. Often they had popped open the forward bales which then collapsed into a giant hill that they could leap into or tumble down. When they’d had friends over… this was where they most often played.

Beneath their feet were over a dozen cows, each in its own stall. Over each stall was a hatch. The job was to open the hatch and drop the food down to each waiting animal. As the brothers set to work, they started on the left. Sam worked ahead of Dean, opening each trap door and dragging a bale of hay over to it, popping it open before he moved on to the next.

Dean followed behind Sam, digging into the bales which broke into chunks under his hands. He’d toss several chunks down each hatch and then rake the loose stuff into the hole as well. Within a few minutes, the dust and chaff from the hay was thick and the boys had both pulled their t-shirts over their noses to filter the air. Once this was completed, they headed back down the ladder to milk the cows as they happily munched on their breakfast. They had one cow with a calf right now, so that was one less to milk.

Dean and Sam each grabbed a little milking machine cart and rolled it down the aisle between stalls. Dean took the left and Sam took the right. It took about five minutes per cow – they’d squat under her and hook up the wands to the nipples and then start the suction. When finished, they’d move on to the next. Whenever one container was full, they’d swap it out for another. When they were finished, they pulled the milk containers in a cart out the door and loaded the heavy containers into the bed of the pick-up. John was finished in the swine barn and he tipped his cap to the boys as he climbed in the driver’s seat. He’d be gone at least a half-hour taking the milk to the local dairy. But when he got back… they’d still be mucking stalls.

“Alright Sammy,” said Dean, clapping his brother on the shoulder, “Let’s go shovel some shit.”

Each popped in their ear buds and grabbed a wheel barrow rake. They let the cows out to pasture and then worked their way down the aisle, this time digging out cow pies with their rakes and forking them into the wheel barrows. When they were full, they’d take them out behind the barn and dump them. Then they’d shovel some more.

When they’d finished here, they’d move to the next barn and muck more stalls. It sucked. Whoever this kid of Deacons was… he was in for some shit. Literally.

When John returned, he had gas cans in the back. Dean looked at Sam, “Rock, paper, scissors for the rider.”

Sam grinned and put out his hand.

“One, two, three, shoot,” Sam counted off gleefully.

“Dammit!” barked Dean.

Sam was laughing as he bounded off toward the machine shed. Dean accepted two gas cans from John and they walked together in the direction Sammy had run off in.

“You pushin again?”

“The kid’s psychic. I can never beat him.”

“Well, his job may be easier,” said John, “but you’ll be done at least an hour before him.”

The morning was bright now and the sun was quickly warming the ground. The dew would soon be completely evaporated. They gassed up mowers and Sammy climbed on the rider, taking off at top speed towards the front of the property. Dean started up his push mower, picked a new playlist and set out to mow around each tree and building on the property… all the places a riding mower wouldn’t reach.

It wasn’t long before he yanked off his shirt and tossed it on a fence post. Occasionally he’d see Sam scoot by, taking large swaths of grass one row at a time. As he came around behind the old silo, he saw his dad out there clearing the fence line.

When he’d finished, he returned the mower to the shed and grabbed his shirt from the fence post on his way in the house. He was filthy so he grabbed a quick shower before heading up to the attic to retrieve the mattress. It was a twin size, small enough for one person to handle, and it was wrapped in a zippered protector. There was a box spring too. He wrestled them down the rickety attic ladder, one at a time, and drug them into his moms sewing room. She had already set up a frame here, so he dropped both in place and then flopped down on the bed.

The room didn’t look like much. His mom’s sewing machine was pushed back into a corner and the large folding table that was normally set up as a workstation had been broken down and pushed up against a wall. Plastic tubs full of material and various items that Dean couldn’t name were also pushed up along that wall. To Dean it looked as though she’d just come in and shoved everything over to one wall.

She’d put an old TV on a dresser and a radio with an alarm clock on the small table that had clearly been intended to serve as nightstand. There was also an old Mickey Mouse lamp with a cracked shade. Dean remembered it. It had been in Sammy’s room when he was a little tike. As he rested on the mattress he found himself wondering about the boy who would sleep in here. John had called him ‘troubled’. Dean could only assume that meant disobedient. Just when he was about to get up, his mother came in.

“Oh good,” she said as she set a stack of sheets and blankest on the bed at his feet, “Can you make the bed for me? They’ll be here soon and I’m running out of time.”

“Sure thing,” said Dean as he rolled off the bed and began to put sheets on it.

With his days work done, Dean was free. He stopped in his room to run fingers through his short hair. Then he texted his buddy Benny to come and pick him up. Coming through the kitchen, he smelled pie and his mouth watered.

“I love you mom,” he said hugging her tightly.

“What did I do to deserve this?” she joked as she hugged him back.

“You made pie.”

“There’s two kinds,” she said into his hair, then she added, “since we’re having guests.”

“Can I get a slice before I go?” he asked her, “Or do I have to wait for leftovers after they leave?”

“Dean, you know there’s no way I’m cutting into one of those pies early. You can have pie when everyone else has pie.”

“But I have to go…” he protested.

John Winchesters booming voice suddenly took over the room, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Benny’s pickin me up. We’re goin swimmin at the quarry with the girls.”

“No. You’re having lunch with your family and our company,” interrupted John, clearly fresh from the shower.

“But Dad,” he protested, “I had plans today… no one even told me about this til this morning. It isn’t fair!”

“Life isn’t fair son, the sooner you learn it the better.”

Dean moved to speak, but his mother laid a hand on his arm and tipped her head. It was demure, but the gesture was clear. Dean had been dismissed from the kitchen.

He huffed around the corner and went to go upstairs. In his path was Sammy. His brother was perched on the steps, taking off his shoes. He was sweaty and covered in grass clippings, having just come in from mowing. Before Dean could speak, he watched his brother bring a single finger to his lips. The universal signal for ‘shh’.

Dean nodded and looked at his brother with curiosity. Sam nodded towards the kitchen, indicating Dean should be listening to their parents.

He could hear them pretty well and he leaned on the wall as he listened.

“John, you’d do a lot better with him if you’d explain yourself… give him the reasons behind your instructions. If you would tell him why you want him to have lunch with us, he’d have a lot better attitude about it.”

“My reasons?”

“Yes. Instead of just telling him he’s required to cancel his plans and be here, you could tell him the truth. Tell him that you haven’t seen your friend in almost a decade and you want to show off your boys to him… because you’re proud of them.”

“Mary, that’s your way. Not mine. The boy should respect me enough to do what I say without me explaining myself.”

Sam started to get to his feet and Dean followed him quietly up the stairs, not wanting to give away that they’d been listening. “Damn,” he whispered as they got to the top of the stairs, “I can’t believe he said that.”

Sam just nodded and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Dean texted Benny, “Abort mission itty bitty bikini. I have to stay home. Family shit.”

“More for me” Benny replied.

Dean wasn’t pissed anymore. Hearing his father admit, even in his absence, that he was proud of Dean was enough to melt any ice in his heart. He still wasn’t thrilled about having to cancel his plans to be here for a boring visit from people Dean couldn’t even remember. But to have heard his father say he was proud of Dean? Priceless.

Dean lingered on his bed, staring at the ceiling until he heard a vehicle pull in their gravel driveway. He rolled off his bed and headed downstairs. Sam was already in the kitchen when he got there and the boys followed their parents who stepped out onto the wide front porch to greet their guests.

A rental car was parked out front and the driver, an older man, was walking around to the passenger side. His short sleeved shirt and jeans gave him a casual, relaxed look. But his stride was purposeful and determined… far from relaxed. He headed straight for John, who had left his family on the porch and begun walking across the lawn. The two embraced firmly, and for a long time.

John had told his boys that there was something special about having served with someone. It was just a stronger bond, and it lasted a lifetime. Dean watched his father wrap Deacon in both arms. This wasn’t a clap on the shoulder, ‘Good to see ya,’ hug. This was a ‘God damn, how did we let ten years go by’ kind of hug.

When the men broke apart, they turned towards the family, who then stepped off the porch to make introductions. Dean watched Deacon hug Mary and then John stepped up between his boys and dropped a hand on each shoulder.

“Deacon, these are my boys. This is my oldest, Dean. And this is Sam.”

“Nice to meet you boys,” smiled Deacon as he shook hands with each of them. Then they all watched as Deacon self-consciously turned and moved back to vehicle. He stepped up to the passenger side and opened the door. No one could hear what was being said, but it was obvious that the passenger was giving Deacon a hard time… possibly putting up a fight about even getting out of the car.

Dean looked over at Sam and then back to the car. Someone was emerging. Dean had no idea what he’d been expecting. But this sure as hell wasn’t it. The kid was dressed in black. Solid black from head to toe. His boots were big and clunky and covered in buckles and zippers and they were tall too – reaching up almost to the kid’s knees. His jeans were so tight, they looked uncomfortable. He was wearing a black and red Ramones t-shirt with the neck ribbing cut off to reveal his throat all the way down to clavicle bones. Over the t-shirt was a black leather jacket – shaped and decorated in a military style. The best part? A fucking top hat. It was tall too – almost like a stove pipe hat. It had three leather bands circling it and each had a buckle on it.

Yep. It was 96 degrees today. And this kid was wearing black boots, jeans, jacket and a fucking top hat. Was this kid for real? What the fuck?

Dean didn’t even think. He simply burst out laughing… he doubled over with it.

John’s retribution was swift and immediate. He cuffed Dean on the back of the head – literally knocking the laughter out of him. He looked at the ground for a minute to gather himself. When he looked up again, the two were approaching. Dean couldn’t look at Deacon. Only his boy.

What a waste – thought Dean – the kid would be decent looking if he weren’t such a freak. Damn decent, actually. But not only was he dressed like a circus Halloween freak, he was wearing make-up. Actual make-up. Thick black eye liner had been drawn in under his eyes. Looking at him closer, Dean could see that the eyes were incredibly blue… bright sapphire and sparkling. His jet black hair stuck out from under the top hat in little disheveled tufts, bright blue at the tips. The kid had earrings and a nose ring as well as several other piercings on his face… two on his eyebrow and one in his lip.

“Winchesters, this is my boy Castiel,” said Deacon, “He goes by Cas.”


	2. Punk Ass Cas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great news! Ravenwolf36 is editing my mistake riddled story starting with this chapter! It'll be an improvement - enjoy!

[](http://s665.photobucket.com/user/Rachella_Deville/media/Ch%201%20Collage%202_zpsn3aa506a.jpg.html)

Cas was frustrated with being shipped off to strangers. Yes, he’d been in some trouble recently. But he’d served his punishment without complaint and had kept his nose clean since. He felt a great sense of injustice.

Looking around the table in the Winchesters kitchen and watching their two ‘Ken doll’ boys, Cas had the thought that if he dressed like either of the kids living in this house, his behavior would’ve been excused as normal teenage shenanigans. But he didn’t. And it wasn’t.

It’s not like he’d knocked over a liquor store. Yes, he’d been picked up for trespassing. But with a half dozen other kids from school; and only for tee peeing the home of their PE teacher. And, yeah, he’d been fired from his job for not showing up. But that was also pretty normal for someone his age. As was getting caught with alcohol. For each offense he’d been punished already. And now, with eight weeks of model behavior under his belt, he’s being sent away. Cas is no fool. This little trip to the country was orchestrated because his father can’t stand the way he dresses… hates the look of his friends. That, more than anything else, has led to this sentence in the purgatory otherwise known as Winchester Farms.

The Winchesters, as he understands it, are good people. They work hard and live right. Their kids are good role models for him. That’s why the decision was made to send him here. It could be worse. He knows that. It’s not like he’s been shipped off to boot camp or military school. He’s not going to be scrubbing floors with toothbrushes or getting molested in the bathroom. He’s going to spend a summer with this family, working hard and being paid for it. His father told him to save the money he earns toward a car… even went so far as to promise that if he cooperated here his savings would be matched dollar per dollar when he returned home.

That offer was too good to refuse. He would cooperate. All he had to do was behave well enough that the Winchesters didn’t feel the need to call his father about him. Having spent the last few hours with them, he really didn’t that would be an issue.

John seemed firm, but fair. Cas could tell. Mary seemed genuine and kind and so did Sam who had gone out of his way to include Cas and try to get to know him. Dean may be a problem. He looked at Cas the same way his father did. With distaste. So far, he hadn’t done or said anything to disturb the peace. But it seemed likely that Dean would turn poisonous when his folks weren’t around to monitor his behavior.

Lunch had been good; a home cooked meal the likes of which he rarely saw. Choice of pie for dessert. Yeah, he hadn’t eaten like this since his mom was alive. Being raised by a widower meant that the closest thing to home cooking they got came from a box or a can. More often than not, dinner came in a carryout container.

The kids had kept quiet during the meal, leaving the adults to catch up and even getting a few laughs as the dads re-told some of their funnier stories. They’d sat in the living room after, the adults talking while the kids settled on the floor to play video games. Cas wasn’t much into the games that Dean and Sam played. But he introduced them to one of his favorites and Sam had seemed to enjoy playing it with him. As the sun started to go down, the adults began preparing for Deacon to take off. Cas watched his father go out to the car and come back in with all his bags.

It was time for goodbyes now. He stood and walked to his father. He absolutely hated how much he wanted to get in the car and go home with his dad… to not be left here with strangers. He worked to school his expression as his father wrapped arms around him and gave him the kind of hug he didn’t give often. Cas had to bite back tears.

When he opened his eyes they were a bit moist. If anyone noticed, they didn’t mention it. John had put a firm hand on his shoulder and said, “Boys, why don’t you each grab one of Cas’ bags and take him up to his room. Get him settled while your mother and I walk Deacon out.”

Dean nodded and stepped up to take the largest bag. Sam was right behind and all that was left for Cas to carry was his backpack. School was out, but it was what he used to carry his laptop. He’d also been able to fit his sketch books and supplies in it as well as a few paperbacks he’d been meaning to read over the summer.

“I’ll take care of the chores tonight boys,” John said to their backs as they left the living room, “You boys get to know each other some, okay?”

“Okay,” the three parroted back to him as they made their exit.

Cas followed the brothers up the stairs and into the room that would be his. He could hear the car when it started up outside.

Dean had left as soon as he’d dropped Cas’ bag to the floor. But Sam remained. The bag he’d carried was deposited on the bed next to Cas’ backpack and then he asked, “You wanna come to my room and play COD? Or do you want some time alone?”

Cas could see that the offer was genuine and not being made out of pity. So he accepted it. They continued to play, sitting on beanbags in Sam's room where a gaming system was set up. They were just starting to relax and have fun when there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?”

“It's mom, may I come in?”

“Sure,” said Sam, pausing the game and looking towards the door.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked as she looked around.

“Dunno. Probably his room,” Sam answered.

“Oh, well, you boys have everything you need?”

Both looked at eachother and shrugged, then turned their faces back to Mary to say, “Yep.”

“Did you get settled in okay, Cas?”

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Winchester.”

“Please,” she said sweetly, “Call me Mary.” She stepped back as if to leave but then poked her head back in, “You boys will want to get to bed soon. We get up for chores at 5.”

“Good night Mom,” said Sam as she left them.

“Five in the morning?” gaped Cas.

“Every morning.”

“Even on weekends?”

“The animals like to eat _every_ day Cas,” teased Sam, “Me and Dean trade off on the weekends though. One of us skips chores on Saturday and the other on Sunday. It takes me way longer to get the chores done when Dean sleeps in… but it’s SO WORTH IT to have a morning off.”

Cas nodded along but this was his first inkling of how much work he’d be doing while he stayed here. “Anyway,” Sam continued, “I think while you’re here dad will work out something to rotate you in and give us more days off. That’s what me-n-Dean were hoping anyway. We just found out today that you were coming.”

There was a beat of silence and then, “You’re from Chicago, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Does everybody dress like you up in Chicago?”

“Not all. But a lot. Enough.”

“How old are you?” Sam asked him.

“Eighteen. I graduated last week. Going to college in the fall.”

“Awesome,” enthused Sam, “Same as Dean. Are you excited for college?”

“Not yet. It’s too far away. When it gets closer I’ll get excited I guess,” he had to survive the summer first.

“When do you graduate?” Cas asked him.

“I’ll be a freshman this year.”

“No shit? I thought you were almost as old as me!”

“Nope.”

“You look older.”

“I’m just tall.”

They played another hour, talking intermittently, Sam firing off random questions as they crossed his mind. When Sam started looking tired, Cas took it upon himself to head back across the hall. He changed into his sleep pants and a well-worn t-shirt. Then he headed down the hall to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He met Dean in passing and the boy nodded to him, but more as an acknowledgement than a nicety. Cas chose to simply ignore it.

Getting to sleep was difficult. People are always saying that it’s quiet out in the country. But it’s not. It’s filled with noises. Just different noises than the city. The sounds of insects are layered. There’s a steady and constant hum, there’s also a whirring noise that seems to swell and recede like waves on a beach. Louder then everything else is the sound of chirping crickets and that is the only sound that Cas is actually familiar with. There’s the occasional hoot of an owl or screech of some other winged creature outside. There’s even a ghost like sound occasionally… the kind of noise that a child might make if pretending to be a ghost. He hears it again and again and Cas can’t place the noise or where it’s coming from. There’s also the occasional (and more familiar) sound of a car passing on the road. And above everything else, the house itself makes noises too – especially when the wind picks up.

Cas listens for a while, morbidly fascinated by the unnamable ghost sound, before he pulls out his earbuds and let’s music drown out the rest. It feels like he blinks and then there’s a banging on his door. He sits bolt up-right in bed. “What?” he calls, uncertain for a moment as he wakes in a strange bed. For a brief moment he can’t remember how he got here.

“It’s Five,” says a stern voice from the other side of the door, “Time to get up for chores. Dress in something you don’t mind getting dirty and then come down for breakfast.”

Cas, remembering now, says, “Okay,” as he lays back down in the bed. His heart calms down from the startle and he’s only just blinked when he hears the banging again.

“What?”

“Don’t hear you movin' in there… you need to get up now. Don’t make me come in.”

“Yes sir,” says Cas, stunned by the bluntness. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and puts bare feet on a cool wood floor. There’s no light. He clicks on the rickety lamp on his bedside table and the room brightens too much. He tugs off his t-shirt and tosses it over the lampshade. It cuts the light down, softens the glare on his bleary eyes. From under the edge of his t-shirt, Mickey Mouse is winking at him.

He pulls his bag over to him and paws through it until he finds a pair of jeans that he never liked that much to start with. He pulls them on, along with an old pair of converse he never wears anymore and heads downstairs. Normally he likes to shower in the morning. But he assumes he’s about to get dirty. So what’s the point?

As he rounds the corner and begins to descend the stairs, his nose picks up a delicious smell. Sausage. As he reaches the bottom of the stairs he can actually hear it sizzling in the pan. When he steps into the kitchen, Mary is at the stove and she has several pans going.

“Good morning, Cas,” she says in a cheery voice, “How do you like your eggs?”

“What are my choices?”

“You name it and I make it… that’s how this little game works,” she told him teasingly.

“Will you make them sunny side up?” he asked hopefully.

“You bet,” she grinned as she forked two big pancakes onto a plate for him, “Why don’t you start with those and I’ll bring you the eggs in a minute. Everything else is on the table.”

Cas didn’t realize he’d been grinning like a fool at his plate until he looked over at the table. Three sets of eyes were watching him. John, Dean and Sam were already well into their breakfasts. He nodded at the group and settled into a chair. John pushed the pitcher of orange juice towards him and motioned for him to fill his cup.

He’s got half his pancakes gone when Mary steps up next to him and slides two perfect eggs onto his plate. He thanks her as she walks away and she gives him an “Mhmm,” absentmindedly as she returns with two slices of buttered toast.

He hadn’t thought about what to expect today. But this wasn’t it. He and his Dad didn’t eat breakfast – usually they just grabbed a pack of pop tarts or something on the way out. This kind of breakfast is something they show on TV… especially the way everyone is sitting down together at the same time.

“I got the fence cleared yesterday on the west end. Be nice if you boys and Cas could get the north line done today after chores,” said John. “And, your mother needs a little help in the garden. $10 extra today for anyone that’ll help her for an hour.”

Dean and Sam nodded. Cas shoveled in his eggs, mopping up yolk with the toast. He was still tired, but he figured if you have to wake up at this unholy hour, at least they give you a Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast.

“Two minutes,” says John.

Cas works faster to clean his plate. When John stands, they all stand. Cas follows the boys out the back door. On his way out, Cas looks back at Mary who is already swooping in to clean up the mess they’ve left on the table. She gives him a smile and a nod… an encouragement.

He trailed behind as the man and his sons stepped out onto the back porch. They each pull a jacket or hoodie from a hook on the wall and begin putting them on. Sam smiles and tosses him a green hoodie. It smells like shit. Actual shit. Cas grits his teeth and holds his breath as he puts it on.

“Those are the only shoes you brought for chores?” thunders John.

“Yes sir.”

“You need a boot with a steel toe. Don’t suppose those boots ya had on yesterday have anything so useful as a steel toe, huh?”

It’s irritating to have his boots be the subject of obvious scorn. Especially when he’d saved up two paychecks to buy them. But he can tell that John is trying to make a joke so he tries to take it as one. “No sir,” he says with a forced smile.

“Well, what size are you?”

“Ten.”

“Perfect. Same as Dean. Try these and see if they fit,” says John, handing him a pair of old and muddy work boots.

Cas toed off his sneakers and sunk his foot into the boot. It was freezing cold. And it was stiff. Also, it had been broken in by a foot that wasn’t his. They felt wrong on his feet. But technically, they fit. He nodded to John and then dropped to one knee to lace them up.

Cas was surprised how cool it was as they trudged across the huge lawn towards the cluster of red buildings. He was glad for his shit-stinkin' hoodie. As they approached the structures, Cas could hear shuffling and snuffling from inside of them.

“You boys show Cas the drill for milkin' and muckin'.  A few days with you boys and a few days with me and he’ll be a pro.”

The three split from John then, following Dean into the barn and clicking on the lights. It stunk. It smelled just like his rank hoodie. He tried not to complain, but couldn’t help the grimace on his face. Dean caught it and rolled his eyes. They climbed the ladder into the hayloft and Cas looked around. It was incredible… a huge space. It smelled much better up here than it had below. The hay had a scent he really liked. Thick, but natural. It was warmer up here too. He wanted to climb on the bales.

Instead, he followed the boys. He mostly watched. And he picked it up quickly despite the lack of verbal instruction. Nothing they were doing was challenging. The pleasant scent became thicker as the brothers moved hay around and soon he was copying them and covering his nose with his t-shirt. He couldn’t stop sneezing and coughing. He could actually see a giant cloud of thick dust hanging over the entire space. Thankfully, that part didn’t take long. Just when his eyes started to water, it was time to climb back down the ladder.

Cas was stunned by the milking machines. It looked like it was painful for the cows… but they didn’t seem to mind. They just went on eating. He watched Sam closely, observing how to work the machine and how to step around the cows. As they moved down the line of animals, Cas was able to put a label on the ghost noise from last night. It was cows mooing.

Cas helped a little with loading the milk containers in the pick-up and letting the animals out into the pasture. Then he followed the boys back to the barn.

“I didn’t get to go to the quarry yesterday because of you. You can make it up to me today by shoveling some shit for me.” Dean’s tone was disparaging and his face had shown irritation as he thrust a strange looking rake in Cas’ face.

Cas gave Dean a ‘fuck you’ look. But he took the rake.

“Don’t be dick Dean,” said Sam as he walked by pushing his own wheel barrow.

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed a rake. Cas watched Dean for about twenty seconds and then, having learned how to shovel shit, he joined in the fun.

It wasn’t so bad, shoveling shit. It was boring and his back hurt a little when he was done… but he didn’t mind it much. By the time they got outside, the sun was high in the sky and it was hot. Cas peeled the stinky sweat shirt off and tied it around his waist. The three soon fell into a rhythm as they pulled waist tall weeds from along the fence line. Soon they were sweating and t-shirts were tossed aside. The gentle breeze felt good on his sweaty skin as he worked.

Dean’s entire personality left a bad taste in Cas’ mouth, but under the hot sun his sweaty freckled skin and lithe body was tantalizing to watch. Cas was frustrated that he found Dean attractive when his personality was so repugnant; and he worked hard to keep his eyes to himself. As they worked from one end of the fence to the other, the weeds were loaded in the bed of the truck. Dean would get in it and drive it up every time they’d come 50 feet or so. When the bed was full, they had all climbed in and driven over to the “burn pile” which was behind the house near the garage.

When they’d finished, Mary put them to work weeding in her garden. It was easy work compared to the huge weeds they’d been pulling for the last two hours. It had taken less than an hour and they’d each been promised $10. To make $10 an hour was better money than he’d ever made at a job and he’d get to keep it all... no taxes.

“How much do you guys get paid for chores?” Cas asked Sam as they walked back to house.

“Twenty-five bucks a day. If dad offers extra… I always take it.”

Cas nodded approval at the wage. $25 per day times 7 days a week? They were each getting almost $200 a week plus any extra. This explained why the boys each had a gaming system in their rooms and so many DVD’s and games that they could stock a flea market.

“You savin' up for anything?” Cas asked Sam.

“Car. Dean too. But he wants Dad’s old car, it’s costing him a fortune. I just want something that runs… I’m not picky.”

“If it’s got a backseat – it’s got all you need, right Sammy?” teased Dean.

Cas was almost taken aback that Dean had spoken. But he chuckled at the lame joke despite himself. They took turns in the shower and by the time they were cleaned up, Mary had lunch on the table for them. Cas was used to eating lunch around noon and it was almost 2, so he was hungry. Normally a breakfast like he’d eaten this morning would keep him full until dinner - but not as hard as he’d been working today. His back was aching mildly as he settled at the table. He knew it would be worse in the morning.

They dug in, each building their sandwiches however they wanted them. There was a huge platter of bacon and another of sliced ham and turkey. Cas enjoyed it… piling his high enough that he had to work to get his mouth around it. The afternoon was theirs to do what they wanted. Dean left with friends so Cas accepted Sam's invitation to watch Game of Thrones with him. Cas had read all the books and was a regular watcher of the show so he enjoyed it immensely.

Chores that evening we much the same as morning. They didn’t have to shovel shit in the cow or horse barns as they had that morning. But they had to clean the hog pens. That was worse. It was more detailed too. They couldn’t just hop in with the pigs, he was told. “It’s dangerous. People die from falling in hog pens sometimes,” said Sam.

The pigs had to be moved from pen to pen so that the area in which they were working was always empty. In addition, they had to count off the tag numbers to each other as they looked at each pig – checking for any problems like wounds or injuries.

The noise was deafening and the stench was horrible. No wonder this building was the farthest from the house. When they got back inside, they all showered. Again. Dinner was different from breakfast and lunch in that Mary seated herself at the table rather than busying herself about the kitchen.

They all talked about Cas’ first day and John told Cas he’d done well. Mary smiled warmly and gave Cas a nod of approval for having earned John’s praise. She then began discussion of a family night to the movies this week. It sparked a debate of what they should see… and that led to discussion of previous movies they’d seen. When the meal was over, everyone worked together to clear the table.

As they finished, Dean hugged his mom and said, “I’m goin' out with Benny. See ya.”

“Wait!” barked John. Cas could almost see Dean deflate. “Why don’t ya take Cas with ya?”

Dean had a look of absolute nausea on his face.

“No, no that’s really not necessary,” stammered Cas, “I’ve got a book that I’ve been wanting to read…”

“Don’t be silly. You’re new in town, Dean can introduce you to some kids your age. Right Dean?”

“Dad…” said Dean firmly, obviously gearing up a more solid protest.

“Dean.”

The tone went straight to Cas’ core. It left no room for argument. He watched Dean fold. Beaten, he slunk out of the room. Cas wasn’t sure what to do. He looked to Sam. Sam shrugged as if to say, “Whatcha gonna do?”

The boys moved to the living room, needing to be out of the kitchen. Sam went to the TV and turned on the Zombie game Cas had introduced him to the night before. Dean was on the couch… obviously pouting. Cas settled uncomfortably in the chair. Why were the hot guys always the biggest assholes?

Dean had been pouting on the couch and texting on his phone for less than five minutes when John hollered at him from the kitchen, “Dean?”

“Yeah Dad?”

“Can you come back out here?”

Dean gave Cas the evil eye as he walked toward the kitchen. On some level, he knew it wasn’t Cas’ fault that he was being forced to bring the punkass bitch along. But he hated him for it anyway. When he got to the kitchen he found both his parents at the sink. His mother was washing dishes and his father was drying them. He laughed a little on the inside, thinking how someday he’d have a wife. And then the only thing he’d need to do to get laid was dry dishes.

“Your mother and I have been talking Dean. And we think, since you're being such a good sport about taking Cas with you tonight, that you should be allowed to take the Impala.”

Dean couldn’t hold back his grin as he reached for the keys that his father was teasingly dangling before his eyes. He leapt up and snatched them. “Awesome!” he said as they jingled in his hand.

“And,” said John as he pulled his wallet out of his pants, “here’s a little something to help with the gas.”

Dean took the twenty he was handed and thanked them. When he left the kitchen, he took a hint from his baby brother and ducked around the corner, lingering in earshot to hear what they’d say about him after he left.

“Thank you John.” Said Mary sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re gonna spoil them rotten.”

“Hardly. I hope you realize you can’t force them to be friends. Just because they’re the same age doesn’t mean they have anything in common.”

“Mary, he’s not so bad, really. He just needs to get around some normal damn kids. Dean’s friends will be a good influence on him.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it will cause problems between Dean and his friends – and still not help Cas at all. I just don’t think we should be trying to force a friendship. I think we should give it time.”

“Patience has never been my virtue… you know that.”

Dean turned away from their conversation then. At least he’d gotten something out of having to take Cas with him tonight. And from the sound of it… John wouldn’t be asking him to do it again anytime soon.

He texted Benny a triumphant message that he’d do the picking up for a change. Walking back into the living room, he looked at his mandatory friend for the evening and said, “You ready?”

“Can I have five minutes?”

“Sure,” he said, flopping down on the couch.

A few minutes later when Cas returned, Dean’s jaw dropped. “Did you seriously just go upstairs to put on make-up?”

Cas didn’t give Dean the satisfaction of letting him see that his comment had stung. He looked over at Sam and said “See ya,” before looking back at Dean and gesturing for him to get going. He did his best to assume the posture of someone who was tolerating an idiot. Because he was.

When they climbed in the car, Dean immediately blasted metal from the stereo. It was obvious he’d done it to avoid talking and that suited Cas just fine. He played with the frays on his skinny jeans as they rumbled down the highway.

“How far is town?” Cas asked, about ten minutes into the drive.

“We ain't goin' to town.”

“Where are we going?”

“The pits.”Dean offered no explanation of what the pits were… and Cas didn’t ask. Dean took a hard right off the highway and rolled down Benny’s driveway. He laid on the horn as he swept around a circle drive. The back porch light came on in response and his friend jogged out to meet them. Dean couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he opened up the car door and peered in at Cas.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Cas, who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the guy ridin' in the front seat. Get in the back loser.”

Cas didn’t argue or try to keep his seat. He got out of the car, but Dean saw him check Benny in the arm as he passed him. His friend hadn’t been expecting it and was easily bumped aside. Dean chuckled as Benny recovered and climbed in. With Cas in the backseat they hit the road again.

“Girls coming?” Dean asked Benny.

“Yep. They’re bringin' friends. Mark 'n' them are comin' too.”

“We got anything to drink?”

“Not yet, brother, but it’s early!”

“Who’s buyin'?”

“Steve’s cousin. They can’t come till after 10 cause he’s workin'.”

Dean had all but forgotten about his back-seat passenger. But as he made the turn from pavement to gravel, he said to Benny, “You remember last night I said some family shit came up?”

“Yeah”

He tipped his head towards the back seat to indicate Cas and said “Meet the family shit.”

“Hey, little shit, how’s it goin'?” provoked Benny.

“It was alright till you got in the car dickbreath.”

“The fuck?” barked Benny, working to turn around, and look at the punk who’d had the audacity to talk back.

“Dude, let it go. He’s ‘troubled’. He’ll probably cry if you’re mean. Besides… bringin' him along got me driving my baby tonight” he said as he stroked his hand along the dashboard showing how much he loved the car.

He slowed for the turn and drove carefully over giant potholes. The ‘road’ at this point was really more of a well-worn path. Dean followed the winding trail until he saw a cluster of other cars… all belonging to his friends. They parked and got out.

“Winchester!” echoed from a few clusters of people and he nodded towards them vaguely as he surveyed the party. There were groups of classmates and kids from school standing about with red cups – leaning on cars and sitting on hoods. Someone, probably Rick, had the bumpin' stereo in their car turned up loud and the windows down. The sound spread out across their clearing and made it feel more like a party.

There was a good moon tonight so once their eyes adjusted they could see pretty well.

“Keg’s over there,” someone gestured. Dean followed the hand signal. He and Benny moved through, checking out tits on the girls who were all dressed in little tank tops and tight tees. They stepped up to the keg.

“Who bought?” asked Dean as he filled his cup.

“Two bucks fucker,” laughed his friend Mark, holding his hand out for money. Dean handed him the twenty that John had given him, “That’s for three,” he said, passing a plastic cup to both Benny and Cas.

With cups filled, they moved around the grouping of cars, saying hi to underclassmen and chicks, but only stopping to talk to good friends. He didn’t bother introducing Cas to anyone unless they asked about him. Dean was surprised that a few of the hotter girls wanted to know who he was. Did they not see that he was wearing eye-liner? And weird fucking clothes?

Eventually, Steve and his cousin got there. When they arrived, they brought other friends too… friends named Jim Beam and Smirnoff. “Need your money, man,” said Steve.

“Gave Mark a twenty,” said Dean, we’re good.

“We? We who?” laughed Steve.

“Me 'n' Benny,” slurred Dean.

“And the shit,” laughed Benny, gesturing behind them and starting to sag.

“The shit?” questioned Steve.

“Cas,” injected Dean, “He means Cas.” Dean had gestured behind himself. But at the puzzled look on the faces of both his friends, he turned to find that Cas was no longer behind him. Hmm. Strange. Dean figured the kid would trail him all night like a lost puppy.

Not giving much thought to where Cas may have wandered off to, Dean turned his attention back to his friends. They got rowdier as the time went by. Watching the girls get fall-down drunk was very entertaining. He settled in on the tailgate of a friend’s truck and tucked the bottle between his legs. He and Benny sat there for a while – just sipping on decent whiskey and watching the girls get stupider. Lisa had been over to talk to him a few times, her gaggle of girls following behind her. He’d catch up with her later when he was ready to get some. For now, he was having too much fun to want to end the night.

“Gotta piss,” he said as he handed the bottle to Benny and hopped down from the tailgate. He stood for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning. It didn’t stop, but it slowed a bit and he began to walk off into the trees that surrounded their little clearing.

When he was away from the noise of their gathering, he found a tree to lean on. With his arm on it and his forehead resting on his arm he reached down and begun undoing his pants with his free hand. That’s when things got interesting. He heard a noise that grabbed his attention immediately. His ears perked up and he listened closely, trying to hear it again.

And there it was… a moan. Someone was getting it on out here. And they were close enough for him to hear it. That, thought Dean, is worth trying to open my eyes for. He pulled his heavy head upright and began looking around. Under the trees the moonlight was muted and it was harder to see here. He followed another soft noise, swiveling his head to the left.

There… about ten yards away was movement. He watched for minute – letting his eyes focus. He was seeing a guy – pressing someone up against the wide truck of a tree. The jersey said Trenton on the back. It was Cole. The guy would be a junior now… he was in basketball and track. Dean leaned forward a bit, wondering which girl he was getting lucky with. There were arms around Cole’s waist and as Dean watched, those arms slid lower and the hands clenched ass. Dean felt his stomach tighten. It would be time to find Lisa soon… he was getting horny watching these two. Dean continued to watch, promising himself it was just for a second. He wasn’t being creepy – just wanted to know which pony Cole had cut from the herd.

Another moan reached his ears and he licked his lips as he watched Cole grind into a willing body. The hands that were on his buddy’s ass slid up under the jersey and disappeared. Dean watched intently as Cole dropped to his knees. Dean’s pulse accelerated at the mere suggestion of what this guy was about to do. He averted his eyes, knowing there was no way to justify watching something that private. He was about to turn and leave. But then he was seized once more by curiosity, wanting to know which girl it was. So he took a look at the face, which he could see clearly now that Cole was on his knees.

He took one look and his heart leapt out of his ribcage and his jaw dropped open – stunned. It was Cas. Cas was pressed against the tree. Cas had been making out with Cole. Cas was… Cas was… Cas was getting his dick sucked. By Cole.

Dean’s lethargic and drunken mind couldn’t catch up, couldn’t process. His pulse roared in his ears and his heart hammered in his ribcage… why wasn’t he looking away? He watched as Cole tugged Cas’ tight jeans down. He watched the dude’s head start to bob up and down. He watched Cas put his hand on the top of Cole’s head. He heard Cas’ sweet moan again. Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

Dean’s brain was stuck on ‘Holy Shit’ for far too long. When he finally recovered enough to clear the scene, he realized that all this time, he’d been standing there with his fly open. He’d come here to piss after all. But now, he couldn’t get his fly up because he was rock-hard. He took a few steps, quietly, and tried to think of something gross. Logically, two guys together should’ve been gross. But it wasn’t. It was hot as hell. He took a few more steps, and then a few more. He went quietly and slowly, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

As he neared the tree line, the noise from the party swelled and helped him remember who he was. Apparently, he’d forgotten for a second there. He stood in the shadows for a few minutes waiting for his uncooperative junk to settle down. When it had, he zipped up and stepped back to the party. He could feel a dull ache settling in his stomach as he ambled back to the tailgate where he’d left Benny.

There was no room for him now. Andrea, his girl, was perched next to him and her friends were with her. They took up all the room. Dean thought briefly about finding Lisa so he could tug her into the woods and get his rocks off. But for some reason, the thought was VERY unappealing.

Instead, he staggered over towards the keg and filled a red cup. It was mostly foam. He perched behind the wheel of his baby and left the door open while he nursed his cup. Soon, he was closing his eyes and leaning his head back. His clumsy mind kept looping back to what he’d seen in the trees. Cole was giving head. To Cas. And unfortunately, Dean had liked seeing it. A lot.

.


	3. Cas is Bad Ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is being edited by Ravenwolf36

The slamming of a car door brings Dean’s eyes open. He takes a deep breath and sits up. He didn’t realized he’d fallen asleep, but as he comes awake he realizes that he must’ve been out for a while. His neck is stiff and sore and his mouth is dry.

The scene around him is far different now than when he’d sat down to rest for few minutes. The crowd has died down. There’s only a few cars left, and a couple small clusters of people are scattered about. There is music playing but it’s softer; coming from a regular car stereo instead of Rick’s big thumper. He sees that the door-slam that had startled him awake was just Benny climbing in the car with him. Judging by the shit-eatin' grin on his friends face… startling Dean awake had been intentional. Dean’s sluggish with booze and his mind is slow to process, but he manages to look Benny in the eye and say, “Wussup.”

“You’re fallin out man”

“I needa piss”

“Well, go on then brother, I ain't gonna hold it for ya,” he laughed dismissively.

As Dean got out of the car and tottered for a second, Benny slid over into the driver’s seat. “You don’t mind if I take her up the road a piece? Andrea’s gotta go soon and I don’t have my truck with me.”

“Whatever, man” he says as he walks away. For the second time tonight, Dean staggers into the trees to take a piss. Maybe he’ll get the job done this time. Much like before, Dean finds himself resting his forearm on the tree and then dropping his head onto it… his head is so heavy that it’s work to keep holding it up. He’s ready for a soft bed and a cool pillow.

While he leans on the tree and rests his eyes, he fumbles his fly down and pulls his dick out into the cool night air. Relaxing, he lets a warm river trickle down the tree trunk beneath him. It lasts a long time. When he’s finished he forces his eyes open and tucks himself away.

Staggering back through the tree line, he sees Lisa and her friends. Thinking he’s too far gone to rebound, he begins making his way to her. He’s ready to tap out for the night and depending on what she feels like, they’ll either fuck or say good night.

As he approaches her, she sees him. But instead of talking to him, she loops arms around two of her girlfriends and heads away. He watches them as they climb into an old Buick Celebrity together – making a show out of ignoring him. He knows he should be wondering how he’s wronged her this evening and figure out how to apologize. But he’s too drunk and sloppy to give a fiddler's fuck. He changes direction and makes his way over to a small group of guys leaning on the side of Scotty’s truck.

Scotty is Steve’s cousin… the one who brought the whiskey that’s currently kicking his ass. The man’s been out of high school for two years now but never went to college. He works second shift at a manufacturing plant in town and still attends high school parties. Presumably he comes to their parties because Steve’s his cousin and friend. But in reality, Dean suspects that these are the only parties available to him anymore. Scotty’s okay, no one minds him being here. But even if they did – they would tolerate it because Scotty can buy alcohol.

Dean joins their group, bracing himself on the side of the truck bed. “Winchester,” someone says, so Dean looks over and nods in acknowledgement. “Any of that Jim Beam left?”

“In my front seat.”

“Where’s your car,” asks Steve, looking around.

“Benny took off in it - with Andrea.”

“Well, at least somebody’s getting some,” Steve laughed, “Saw you strike out with Lisa,” he laughed.

“It’s easy enough,” Dean laughed, looking around and starting to perk up a bit. Belatedly he wonders about Cas, realizing he’s not seen him since… since… oh yeah. The incident from earlier comes back to him. He remembers seeing Cas with his head tipped back against the tree and mouth hanging open – hand resting on Cole’s head. Damn.

Dean never would’ve guessed that Cole bats for the other team. Of course no one would probably ever guess that of him either. But he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit to knowing he had the potential. He likes the look of boys. He likes the idea of touching them. He’s never indulged that, instinctively knowing it was a path that he’d be wise to avoid.

Plus, it’s not like he’s ever had any trouble getting it up to fuck a girl. If he can get his rocks off either way… isn’t the path of least resistance the best choice? Of course it is. If he was doing boys, he’d have to put up with jokes about it constantly. He might even lose some friends over it. His parents would be disappointed.

Living the straight life had been good to him so far. He was king of the school. Everyone wanted to be him. Or fuck him. He has the head cheerleader for his girl and a half dozen suitable replacements lined up and waiting for him should he choose to move on from her. His parents are proud and Sammy idolizes him. Yep. Playing it straight had been the right decision. Who knows how high school would’ve turned out if he’d swung the other way.

Headlights lit them up like a spotlight for a brief moment and then swung left. Dean shielded his eyes until it had passed; another vehicle having exited their clearing. “Is the keg dry?” he asked, dry mouth getting the better of him.

“Yep.” Came the answer.

“The fuck time is it?” he barked roughly.

“After 2,” said Steve.

The party continued to fizzle out. They helped some friends load up the empty keg and soon it was down to just himself, Steve and Scotty. “Where’s that dude you brought?” Steve asked him.

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him for hours.”

“What dude?” asked Scotty.

“Eyeliner dude” replied Steve.

“Oh, yeah,” huffed Scotty, “that guy left with Cole, Kevin and a couple of chicks.”

“Fuck!” cursed Dean.

“What?”

“I’m better off not going home at all, than going home without that fuckin' kid.”

“Why? Who is he?”

“Nobody,” he said firmly, closing the subject. He didn’t want to talk about Cas. Dean patted his pockets, wondering where he’d left his phone. Oh yeah… it was in the car. Probably under Benny’s hairy ass. Just perfect. He had no car, no phone and no Cas. Dammit!

Just when he was starting to lose his shit, the steady rumble of the Impala became audible. A second later, headlights struck the group. Benny parked next to them and climbed out, pulling Andrea with him. Dean immediately went over and retrieved his phone from the dash.

“Anybody got Cole’s number? Or Kevin?”

“I do,” said Steve. He rattled off the numbers to Dean. He punched them into his keypad and hit the call button. It took three tries. Everyone was laughing at him. When the call finally connected, Cole answered on the first ring.

“You have something that belongs to me,” said Dean.

“I do. Yawanna pick it up? Or should I come back to the pits?”

“Where are you?”

“McDonald's.”

Dean smiled, “We’re comin' to you.”

Dean and Benny piled in the Impala and Benny drove them the ten minutes to town. Dean rolled his window down and laid his head back, feeling better already.

It was almost 3 am when they pulled into the lot. Cole and his friends were visible through the window. They were a large and boisterous group; it only got worse when Dean and Benny joined them. By the time he’d downed two burgers and two cokes, Dean was getting his second wind. He watched Cole and Cas both, trying to see what was between them. But honestly, if he hadn’t seen them getting it on earlier, he’d have never guessed there was anything between them at all. They were just so completely normal with each other as they bantered with the group. For his part, Cas was looking pretty normal too. Most of the eye-liner had worn off and since he was seated at a table, his shredded skinny jeans couldn’t be seen. As Cas laughed and joked with everyone his eyes were crystalline blue and magnetic. Dean found himself being reeled in like a fish, he had to force himself to look away so that no one would notice how intensely focused on Cas he was. They all hung out for a while before finally dispersing and leaving a mess on the floor.

Dean and Benny exchanged a look and a laugh as Cas slid into the back seat, not knowing what had been gotten up to on that seat earlier in the evening. By the time they dropped off Benny and got all the way home, it was after 4.

“Almost not worth going to bed when we gotta be up in less than an hour,” said Cas.

Dean nodded, realizing the kid was right.

“Think I’ll go burn one. See ya,” said Cas taking off across the lawn at an easy pace. The grass was thick and wet with dew. His shoes were soaked already.

“Where you headed?” asked Dean, jogging clumsily up beside him.

“I like the hayloft. Gonna sit up there.”

“No you’re not.”

“Why the fuck not, _Winchester_?” somehow managing to make his name sound like an insult when the rest of the world made it sound like a compliment.

“Cause dumb ass. You don’t smoke in fucking hayloft. Yawanna burn down our whole barn?”

Cas slowed and looked over at Dean. It was obvious that he hadn’t even thought about that. “Where do you suggest?” he asked, chin held high.

“The old silo. The one that we don’t use. Backside of the machine shed.”

They changed direction, cutting back the other way and walking in silence. When they got there, Dean pulled away the piece of plywood that covered the small access door and they both slid in. Cas looked around. It was about 20 feet in diameter. It had looked small next to the two larger ones beside it, but from inside it was impressive. Moonlight filtered down through slats in the dome on top – just enough to illuminate their faces but not much else. Around the base of the silo was a cement foundation support. It was the perfect size to be used as a seat and the boys slid back onto it, getting as comfortable as one can on a sofa made of cool, damp cement. The entire silo lit up with the orange light from the flick of Cas’ match and Dean watched as he brought it to his lips, taking gentle pulls through the joint to get it lit. He shook the match to put it out and then blew away the ash from the cherry end. When it was smoking nicely, he took a decent hit before passing it on to Dean.

Dean nodded his thanks, feeling like a douche for sharing weed when he’d treated this kid like shit all night. “That’s good,” he said.

“S’alright.”

“You bring that from Chicago?”

“We don’t have to do that whole talking thing Dean. You don’t like me. I don’t like you,” he said matter of factly, “We’re just killing 45 minutes here.”

Dean nodded, always of the mindset to play it cool when you didn’t know what to say. He took another hit and passed it back to Cas.

He watched the kid for a second, thinking again how good looking he’d be if he’d just quit with the make-up and lose the face jewelry. Not wanting to stare, he turned his attention to the little square they’d crawled in through. He could see a small patch of the tall grass outside and watched it in the moonlight as it swayed gently in the breeze. Daylight would be breaking soon, he could tell because the birds were starting to sing.

He pulled his phone out, starting up an internet game to pass the time. Cas offered him another hit, but if they weren’t even going fake like friends, he didn’t feel okay about smoking the kid's weed. When the clock read 5:00 am, he shoved off the ledge and motioned for Cas that it was time.

Dean hadn’t realized how stoned he’d gotten from his few hits until he sat down at the breakfast table inside. On top of the McDonalds he’d just eaten 90 minutes ago, he managed to pile on a double helping of pancakes and hash browns. He grinned as he noticed Cas doing the same; although the kid always seemed to eat like a grizzly bear.

As they ate in silence, waiting for Sam and John to join them, Dean watched the sun come up outside and pondered why he didn’t like Cas. Was it just the make up? Was that it? Because he had to admit that the summer would be easier to enjoy if he weren’t constantly focused on his dislike of the boy across the table from him. It was a lot of work to send out negative vibes all the time, which is basically what he’d been doing.

Watching him and Sammy hit it off hadn’t been easy either. He’d wanted Sammy to ice the kid out – the brothers against the city freak. But Sammy liked the kid. And Dean had to admit, that carried some weight with him.

When they’d finished chores, Dean waited for his turn in the shower. He was practically aching to get in bed. He fully intended to sleep the entire afternoon away. He made a quick job of washing his hair and then lathering up his hands with shower gel to rub one out. He was too tired and wrung out to put any effort into it. But, after the night he’d had, he knew he would sleep so much better if he could just get off first.

His mind flicked through the spank bank as he held his flaccid cock in his hand and massaged it. It only took a moment for the titillation of last night’s voyeuristic escapade to pop to the front of his mind. His hand clamped down on his cock as he remembered how Cas had looked while getting head. Heat flooded south and his dick filled quickly. He started stroking firmly and as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, he recalled with startling clarity the way Cole practically had to peel those jeans down, and the way Cas had rested his hand on top of the head that was sucking him. He fisted tightly and managed to pull an orgasm out of himself in about 90 seconds flat.

Refreshed, and even more tired, he stepped out and toweled off. He tugged on a pair of sleep pants, tossed his dirty stuff in the hamper and exited the bathroom. The wood floor of the hallway felt cool on his bare feet as he headed to his room. When he passed Sammy’s room, he heard music and laughter coming from behind the door. It wasn’t the kind of music that Sam normally listened to. Curious, he knocked and poked his head in, surprised to see both Sam and Cas sitting on the bed together. Both had shiny, wet hair from the shower and both were wearing t-shirts and sleep pants.

Cas looked good. Dean tried not to let his eyes linger, but fresh-faced? No make-up? No jewelry? Cas was striking. His cheek bones were wide and his eye brows arched seductively. His lips were soft and pink and full. He swallowed as he took in the angelic face with its exquisite features. Then he forced himself to speak.

“What are you playing Sammy? I like it.”

“It’s Cas’ music,” he answered, “Cage the Elephant is the band, its good huh?”

“Yeah, well,” hesitated Dean, suddenly feeling like the odd man out, “I’m gonna crash out for a few hours. See ya,” he said as he left. He felt a little empty as he left them, wishing he could climb on the bed too and listen to music with them, dozing comfortably through the afternoon. But his bed was comfortable nonetheless and he soon feel into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next few days passed quickly, Dean and Cas having fallen into a relatively comfortable radio silence. Dean refocuses on enjoying the summer with his friends when he’s not working on the farm. Baseball practices have started and they’re daily at 7am so Dean’s off the hook for morning chores. Saturday is soon upon them. Dean comes in from ball practice just as the family is sitting down to lunch – perfect timing. He tosses his mitt aside and falls into a chair, spooning a huge helping of chicken salad onto a piece of bread. He eats it open-faced, rather than covering it with another slice of bread to make a sandwich – the ratio of meat to bread is more this way and he likes it.

His mother piles oven baked potatoes on his plate for him and as he’s giving each a ketchup bath to inhale them, his mother reminds everyone that the family is going to the movies for family night. Dean knows it’s pointless to protest the activity so instead he fishes for information on how to plan around it. One of Lisa’s friends has parents who are away visiting a sick relative in Colorado. Tonight, they will be partying at her house.

“What show are we going to?” asks Dean.

“I vote for the alien movie…” Sam starts up.

“No, I mean what time…” corrects Dean.

“Relax,” says his mom with a hand on his shoulder, “We’re going to the 3:00 show and then having dinner out. We’ll be home around 7 and you’ll be free to leave after that.”

He smiles at her and says thanks, feeling a bit bad that it was obvious he was itching to be away from them. He loves his family and wants to be sure they know it. But, he can’t help what he is. He’s 18. All his life he’s been hearing adults say that these will be the best years of his life and he fully intends to make the most of them.

After lunch, he heads upstairs to shower. As he’s moving from the bathroom to his bedroom, he’s once again faced with Sam’s closed bedroom door; and the sounds coming from behind it – his brother and Cas hanging out and having a good time. This is getting old. He dresses, runs fingers and product through his hair and heads downstairs to join his parents. They’ll be leaving soon. His father is relaxing in the recliner with a newspaper and his mother is absent – probably in her room getting ready to go. Dean flops down on the couch and flips channels on the TV but there’s not much on.

When his mother emerges from her room, she calls up the stairs for the boys to come down and when he hears thundering footfalls on the steps he looks up from the TV and catches sight of Cas. He’s back in eyeliner again… silver bolts and studs all over his fucking face. He’s got on a Blink182 t-shirt and black cargo pants with a studded belt. At least he’s not wearing those atrocious boots he’d worn when he arrived. Dean looks to his mom to see if she’ll say anything about the clothes. She doesn’t. She simply herds everyone towards the garage. He follows behind, watching his mom make conversation with his brother and the punk ass kid who’s been the source of his irritation and frustration for too long now. They’re chattering on about the movie they’re seeing and what actors are in it. Dean rolls his eyes and climbs into the van behind Sammy.

His father is last in, taking his place behind the wheel, and then they’re off. It takes 15 minutes to get to town and they spend the remainder of the time deciding where to go out and eat after the show. They settle on Chili’s and he has to chuckle as he watches his mother turn to his father and say, “Two for one drinks – all day every day!”

When they get to the theater, Sam tugs Mary towards the snack counter and begs for popcorn. Dean grins as he watches his mother say no.

“If we get a bunch of junk here – you won’t be hungry after when we go out to eat.”

“I will mom, I promise, I’ll be hungry after. Please? What’s a movie without popcorn?”

Dean’s not sure why, but he sees his mom give a questioning look to John. Then he sees his father step up and say, “If you want popcorn so bad, use your own money to buy it Sammy. You’re mother has given you her answer and you need to respect it.”

Dean see’s Mary relax a bit. He wonders about their exchange but can’t figure what it meant. He waits quietly in the back of the group while Sam steps up to the counter with Cas. He offers Cas to share popcorn and watches Cas agree and order a drink, clearly planning to reciprocate the gesture to Sam. Then Dean catches it. The look. The young man who’s working the counter gives Cas ‘the look’. It’s disparaging and condescending. Even though Dean has given Cas that look himself, he finds he doesn’t like it. Then, he watches as his little brother sees the exchange and steps closer to Cas, draping a companionable arm over his shoulder. As the employee pushes the tub of popcorn and soda cup across the counter towards the boys, Sam gives him a dirty look, fiercely protective of Cas. Sam is such a good person; and though Dean doesn’t acknowledge the exchange he’s glad that Sam was looking out for Cas.

They all head into the theater together. Belatedly, Dean wishes he’d thought to look at his parents. He wonders if they had caught what was happening at the popcorn counter, and if so, what they thought of it. Ever since the day that Sam had encouraged him to eavesdrop on his parents while they talked about him, he’s started doing it.  And he’s finding that he likes hearing what’s meant to be private between them. It gives him insight into why they say and do the things they do. Their motivations are often a surprise to him.

They all file into a single row in the darkened theater. It’s not crowded since it’s the middle of the afternoon. In fact, there’s only a few other clusters of people. Dean is sitting next to his dad who is sitting next to his mom. On the other side of his mom are Sam and Cas. When had Sam and Dean become Sam and Cas?

Dean, feeling a bit guilty for his desire to make a quick exit from family time, makes an extra effort to be engaged with his family during their dinner afterwards. He openly chats about the movie – what he liked and didn’t. He talks to them about baseball and his coach and his excitement for college in the fall. He tries to talk to the entire table, including Cas. And he feels a little sad when he sees the uncertain look in Cas’ eyes… the way he’s disbelieving of even the smallest kindness from Dean. He feels like an ass.

When they arrive home, Dean texts his friends and finds out that the party is in full swing. He lingers for a few minutes in the kitchen watching his mother as she pours herself a tall glass of iced tea. “Thanks for taking us all out to the movies,” he says.

“Of course Dean, and thank you for going with us. It won’t be the same without you next year.” Her voice catches on the last word and as she pulls him into a hug, he can feel how she’s holding back tears. Twice tonight he’s left feeling like an ass. He realizes as he’s held warmly in his mother’s embrace that he’s not the only one who will hold onto memories of this, his last summer at home. This is the end of an era for her too… and likely for his father. After this it will just be them and Sammy. A few years after that… it will just be them. He wants to cry with her.

Instead, he tucks his head to her chest and tries to memorize how it feels to just be her boy and let her hold him. John then comes bustling in to ruin their moment of peace. He claps Dean on the shoulder as he passes them. It’s a silent ‘attaboy’ for being good to his mom. As they peel apart, Dean doesn’t look at her for fear his eyes will get wet.

“You headed out son?” asks John.

“Yeah, soon.”

“You plannin' to take Cas with ya?”

“I… wasn’t…” he stammered, unprepared and hoping his father doesn’t try to insist on it.

“Would it kill ya?” he pressed.

Rather than just say yes or no, Dean answers with a question. “Why do you care Dad?”

“Just seems like you two had fun last time – I mean you were out all night. And he seems like he’s coming around.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him dad. He’s just a kid who dresses like a freak. He can fit in when he wants to. I’ve seen it.”

“What do you mean?” asks a quiet voice from behind them.

Dean’s stomach drops as he turns and sees that some amount of their conversation has been overheard by Cas. Now he’s looking straight at Dean as he waits for the answer to his question. “What do I mean?” Dean fumbles, trying to stall.

“Yeah Dean. What do you mean when you say that I can fit in when I want to?”

“I need to explain that?” he snaps. “You’re not stupid Cas. I know you get this. You can wash that frickin' make-up off and take off all the jewelry and just dress normal. It’s not like you don’t know how to act around people. You could be totally normal and have normal friends if you wanted to. You’re not a freak. You just dress like one.” Wow. That was a bit more honest than he’d meant to be.

But Cas is surprisingly calm. He is looking around the kitchen and speaking to Mary and John too; but it’s Dean he addresses by name. “Dean, that could be said to anyone. No one is making people dress this way. We dress this way because we like to. I happen to like the way I look. I like the way I dress. And I don’t care to be around people that would like or dislike me, based on what I wear. So dressing like this makes it easy for me to sort out the kind of fake people who only care about appearances and surround myself with people who accept me as I am. It’s a win-win for me.”

Dean is stunned. He can’t argue with the logic. Cas is absolutely right. But what does that say about him? Is he that superficial? Is he that judgmental? Since he has no answers to these questions and no suitable response for Cas, he leaves. He just turns and walks away. He heads for his room, skulking away in shame. He couldn’t look at his parents as he left and he has no idea what they’re thinking.

Dean closes the door to his room. He needs a few minutes to think. He lays down on the bed and ponders the questions he’s asked himself. Unfortunately, the answers aren’t long in coming. Yes. He’s superficial. He’d wondered several times why he disliked Cas so much and had never been able to put his finger on the reason. Because there wasn’t one. He didn’t like how Cas presented himself or the counter culture that he represented – so he’d made up his mind to dislike the boy from the moment he’d laid eyes on him.

Honestly, if Cas hadn’t been dressing the way he has, Dean would’ve been fully crushing on the kid. The few times he’d seen him without make-up he’d found him very attractive. And he’d liked the way Cas stood up for himself. Not just with Dean but with Benny too. Dean decided that he needed to try and change a little. He didn’t want to be the kind of person who based his opinions on appearance. He wanted to be like Sammy… see the person underneath. With a growing sense of determination, he got up from his bed and headed downstairs.

His parents were on the couch, mom reading a book and his dad flipping through a tractor magazine. Cas and Sam were on the floor playing a videogame. Dean met his father’s eye and gave a nod. Then, he turned his attention to the boys on the floor.

“Cas?”

“Huh?” he said, pausing the game.

“There’s a party at Molly’s tonight. She’s a friend of Lisa’s. You wanna come?”

Clearly this had surprised Cas because he took a long pregnant pause as he considered it. Then he set down his controller and gave a nod. “Pick this up tomorrow Sam?”

Dean watched his brother nod agreement and switch the game to one player. From over his shoulder, his father cleared his throat. Dean looked up and saw the man dangling keys for him, a half smile on his face.

Dean returned the smile and walked over to take the keys. “Thanks Dad.”

As they walked to the garage, Dean texted Benny that he didn’t need a ride. They climbed into the Impala and backed out. The silence was a bit uncomfortable at first. But Dean turned on some tunes and tried to relax. Molly’s place wasn’t far.

When they entered, they were engulfed. Everyone was three drinks ahead of them. Some of the drunker girls were dancing to the loud music while most everyone else was just milling about and talking. They moved through to the kitchen and found the counter covered in empty bottles already. “Beer’s in the garage,” said Benny as he stepped up to Dean with cup in hand and dropped an arm over his shoulders, “I see you brought the shit again.” Dean looked around, but Cas wasn’t behind him anymore.

“Yeah. But let’s take it easy on him tonight. He’s not so bad.”

“Alright brotha,” Benny replied in a drunken slur, “I’ll take ‘er easy”

Dean grinned. He’d need six shots to catch up with Benny. “Whose selling the cups?”

“Molly.”

Dean looked around the kitchen and then moved back towards the living room with Benny behind him. Molly was leaning on a wall, watching the drunkest of the girls make asses of themselves on a make-shift dance floor. He stepped up to her, “Great party.”

“Yeah,” she said absently with glazed eyes, “Cleanup tomorrow is gonna be awesome.”

He chuckled and pulled out his wallet. “I need two cups.”

“$10”

He nodded and put two fives in her hand. She opened the closet behind her and pulled out the cups, handing them to Dean. “Who’s the hottie you’re hangin' with lately?” she asked as she resumed leaning on the wall next to him.

“Cas. He’s staying with us for the summer.”

“Put in a good word for me.”

“You know it.” He had smiled as he said it. But inside he was chuckling. He knew she wasn’t Cas’ type.

He needed to find Cas and give him his cup. As luck would have it – all he had to do was follow her glassy eyed stare. It was locked on Cas. He was leaning on the opposite wall, talking to Chris. Chris was one of Cole’s friends whom he’d met at the pits.

Benny was still behind him, fascinated by the lurid dance happening in the middle of the room. Dean grabbed his friend by arm, breaking the spell of hypnotic tits and ass that he was under. “Let’s beer me” he said as he pushed Benny back towards the kitchen. They moved through the door that connected the kitchen to the garage. Dean heard several voices greet him, “Winchester!”

He raised his empty cup to the group in a ‘cheers’ gesture and stepped into the line waiting for the keg. A cloud of smoke hung heavy out here in the garage – a mixture of tobacco and weed. When it was his turn, he filled both cups and then headed back in the house while Benny stayed behind, having fallen into a conversation with Andrea and her friends. Dean had yet to see Lisa and that was fine with him. He walked up to Cas with a nod of acknowledgement to Chris and then handed Cas his beer.

Cas gave him a silent nod, clearly unsure of Dean’s intentions but hoping for the best.

Dean settled into an easy conversation with the two, who were talking about their plans for the fall. Chris was saying, “I’ll be at University of Alabama. My folks both went there… all I care about is getting out on my own… don’t really care what school I go to, so it’s all the same to me.”

“What about you?” Chris asked Cas.

“Well,” began Cas, flicking eyes to Dean and back again, “I’m supposed to be going to University of Illinois in Chicago, but I’m honestly not sure yet.”

Dean turned as a warm hand slid around his waist and snaked up under his shirt. He knew it was Lisa, but before turning to face her he made a joke, “Benny you have to keep your hands to yourself.” Both Chris and Cas had laughed out loud.

“Funny, Dean,” purred Lisa, already wasted. “What took you so long to get here?”

“Had to do family night with the folks first.”

“Well, at least I have you all to myself now,” she said as she pulled on his arm.

He turned to Chris and Cas and gave them the “I gotta go do my duty for man-kind and fuck this chick” look and then followed his girl away from them. He’d thought she was pulling him to a room for sex because of how she’d been draped over him like that’s what was on her mind. But as it turns out, she was leading him to the dancefloor.

“No.” he said, pulling her away, “I’m not drunk enough.”

“Let’s do some shots then,” she said as she changed direction and began leading him to the kitchen. There was a large group gathered around the island in the kitchen and Dean and Lisa stepped up to join them for a round. Lisa was getting sloppy. He needed to cut her off or he’d wind up being her babysitter the rest of the night.

“You only get one,” he said as he handed her the shot glass, “I need to catch up.”

She nodded and waited while he pounded two before joining him on the third. He grimaced as the rapid-fire shots burned their way down and the warmth of them slowly spread over his body. Satisfied, he picked up his beer cup and gave the group a ‘cheers’ gesture as he stepped away. His beer cup was getting low and he was about to suggest getting in line for the keg again when he heard commotion from the living room. They stepped into the doorway and saw a very tense standoff forming. Benny was swaying but still towered over Cas. Both Chris and Cole were standing with Cas and Andrea was trying to pull Benny away. Dean started walking over, but wasn’t fast enough.

“You keep your punk-ass-bitch, make-up wearin' face away from my woman!” Benny slurred.

It happened too fast; Dean was pushing to get to them but was forced to see it in slow motion as Benny pulled back his giant fist and took a wide swing at Cas. Cas was quick enough duck out of the shot and Dean was stunned to a standstill as he watched the kid execute a perfect combination punch - landing a faultless blow to Benny’s left cheek bone and then coming in with a solid gut shot as Benny’s body rocked from the punch. Dean stood staring slack jawed as he watched his hulking friend crumble to the floor.

“I told you,” shouted Cas, “I wasn’t checkin' her out. She’s not even my type!”

Dean’s feet were moving again now, and when he got to Benny’s side, he dropped to one knee and reached out to help Benny up off the floor. He glanced up at Cas who was looking at Andrea. “I didn’t mean it like that Andrea,” Cas told her, “You’re beautiful. It’s just… you don’t have the right equipment… I like dick.”

Dean was struggling to get Benny up – the big ox was so heavy. Chris reached in and helped. The two of them managed to wrangle him over to the couch. From there, Dean watched Cole move away from Cas. It was subtle. Not something he’d have noticed if he hadn’t been privy to the secret that Cas and Cole were sharing. But Dean felt truly bad for Cas as Cole continued to avoid him the rest of the night.

Dean understood completely. Much like Dean, Cole was not willing to have anyone know that he was just like Cas. Cole would continue to distance himself from Cas – unwilling to even appear to be friends with someone who was openly gay. It was an irrational fear – to think that people would assume you to be gay simply because you were friends with someone who was. But that fear of guilt by association is very real for people like Dean and Cole who carry a secret.

Poor Cas, thought Dean. On the heels of that was another thought. Poor Cole.

Benny passed out shortly after the incident – party in full swing around him as he snored on the couch. Girls soon drifted in to do their duty to mankind, using eyeliner and lipstick to pretty him up and snap pictures for posterity.

Dean had decided he wouldn’t try to dissociate from Cas. He continued talking to him as if nothing had happened. The rest of Cole’s friends didn’t seem to notice that Cole was avoiding Cas and they continued to talk to him intermittently throughout the evening. Dean watched to see if anyone would treat him differently because he was talking to Cas despite being gay. He didn’t notice any change in how he was perceived by his friends and found it reassuring. He’d be okay with absorbing some damage socially at this point. He had less to lose than Cole. Cole had two years of high school left. Dean was done.

As the night went on, Dean found himself surrendering to the buzz of alcohol and weed. He laughed with his friends, he danced with is girl, he even enjoyed having Cas around. He’d never realized how funny the kid was… he was constantly popping off one liners and his smile was contagious. Little by little the excitement wound down as the hour grew later and kids had to get home for curfew. At 1:00 am Lisa began trying to drag him away and get some time alone.

“I’m already late for curfew,” she purred as he pulled him down the hall towards the bedroom, “We have to be quick.”

“Not a problem,” laughed Dean as he stumbled after her. Lisa was most appealing when she was hammered like this because he knew that she’d let him turn her over and fuck her doggie style. That was how he liked it best – not having to see her face or her jiggly breasts as went at it. When they got on the bed, she immediately went down on him and he smiled at the feeling of a warm wet mouth on his package. He let his head fall back and his eyes close.

“Don’t stop,” he said huskily when she pulled off of him. He gently pushed her down again, but she only suckled there for a moment before stopping again.

“You’re not even hard Dean.”

“M’not?” he said picking up his head to look. “Guess I drank too much. Sorry Lis.”

“Yeah… me too” she said grumpily as she stood and moved toward the door.

“You leaving?”

“I’m already late Dean. I may as well. You’re in no condition anyway.”

“Bye,” he said as he head the door click shut behind her. The bed was comfy so he let himself linger there for a few minutes. He’d get up and rejoin his friends shortly – he just wanted to make sure she was gone before he did. Better for her to assume he’d passed out in this room.

Truth told, he wasn’t drunk enough to chock this up to ‘whiskey dick’. He knew there was a bigger problem. He didn’t care about her at all. He liked her in the same way he liked his letter jacket and his 2A State Tournament Trophy. In all honesty, his parents probably liked Lisa more than he did. And though it would’ve been nice to get off, he doesn’t spare much time thinking of this as a missed opportunity. He’s just swung his legs over the side of the bed to get up when he hears a knock.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” it was Cas.

“Sure,” he says as he gets to his feet.

“Surprised to see you standing, Lisa said you were passed out in here.”

“Guess I’m gettin' my second wind,” he said as he moved toward the door, “What?” he asks as he stepped past Cas and out into the hall, “Were ya checkin' on me?”

“Not really. It’s just, everybody’s taking off. So if you were just passed out anyway, I was gonna drag you home.”

“Well, no need to drag me. Let’s go.”

Dean paused for a moment to fart on Benny’s face, earning him some hearty laughter from his friends as he and Cas made their exit. Cas drove and Dean didn’t protest. Normally he didn’t let friends drive his dad’s car unless he was far too drunk to be driving. But honestly, it was nice to have Cas driving. He rolled down his window and let his head rest on his arm, night wind blowing on his face as they rumbled down the darkened highway and back out into the country.

When they’d parked in the garage and climbed out, Cas said, “I’m gonna go burn one down before I go in.”

“I’m comin',” said Dean as he turned to follow. They crossed the yard without a word, crawling through the small access door again and settling themselves the cement couch just as they had last time. This time, Dean didn’t leave so much space between them and felt plenty comfortable sharing the guys weed.

“You never told me,” he said as he exhaled sweet smoke into the stagnant air, “Did you bring this from Chicago?”

“Naw, bought it off Chris.”

“Chris sold you weed?”

“Yep.” Said Cas as he inhaled, “I only had dregs left when I got here.”

“I’m sorry about Cole,” said Dean as he accepted the joint from Cas again. He meant it. He really felt bad for Cas.

The air grew impossibly more still as Cas considered him, “You knew?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

“Does it matter?” he asked as he exhaled more smoke into the cloud that was hanging over them.

“Guess not. I’m just surprised you didn’t out me.”

“He’s a friend,” said Dean softly.

Cas nodded, “Thanks for being cool about it.”

“Sure. M’sorry bout Benny too. He was just wasted.”

“Sorry I took the shot. He was so drunk, it was hardly fair,” Cas replied as he took his turn inhaling.

“Well, it was fun to watch. I don’t know anyone else who’s ever even swung at that big ox,” chuckled Dean. He was only half joking. Benny had inches and pounds on even the biggest guys in school. No one crossed him. “Cas, I gotta say, that was BAD ASS.”

Cas smiled at him and he smiled back.

“What’s your plan, Dean?”

“Um… go in and pass out I guess; maybe raid the fridge?”

“No,” said Cas, snuffing out the joint and putting it in his pocket, “I mean for life. You’re going to college, right?” he asked as he stood.

“Yeah,” he answered as he followed Cas’ lead and got to his feet, “here. Not going anywhere. Just community college.”

“What program?”

“Criminal Justice” he laughed, “My days of buyin' weed are almost over. When I’m a cop I’ll just confiscate it from teenagers.”

They were both laughing at that as they ducked out into the clear air. They crossed the lawn and headed inside, stopping briefly in the kitchen. Dean tossed Cas a bag of Cheetos and grabbed the bowl of left over chicken salad from the fridge. He tucked it under his arm and was then able to also carry a loaf of bread in that hand. He tucked a spoon in his back pocket and pulled two soda’s from the door of the fridge with his free hand. They went upstairs and Cas went straight to his room.Dean followed, dropping their drinks on the bedside table and settling in on the bed. He had the bowl in his lap and the bread beside him on the bed.

 

 

 

 

Cas watched as Dean peeled back the lid of the plastic bowl and pulled the spoon from his back pocket. Cas opened the Cheetos and began munching as he observed Dean spooning chicken salad onto a piece of bread and folding it in half to pop in his mouth. He ate it in two bites. The guy was surprisingly coordinated for someone who’d been too drunk to fuck his girlfriend an hour ago. But he kept his mouth shut, wanting to respect Dean’s privacy. Perhaps they’d had a fight and didn’t want to tell people about it. Who knows? But he doesn’t want to ask about it for fear of breaking this tenuous thread of friendship they seemed to have formed.

Dean makes another little fold-over sandwich and passes it to Cas, trading it for the Cheetos bag. They munch contentedly for a while. “Whatcha reading?” Dean asked – gesturing to the book laying open and face down on Cas’ bedside table.

“Dean Koontz. That one’s part of a series about a guy who can see dead people. It’s good. Do you read?”

“Not really,” said Dean as he chewed his bite and began scraping the sides of the bowl down for one last sandwich. “Pass me a Coke?”

Cas nodded and leaned forward to hand him the can. Their fingers brushed lightly as Dean took it. Cas couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean. He’d been stuffing his attraction down low in his gut as he’d hated Dean. But now, as they became civil, it threatened to worm its way up into his chest. He’d have to work on that. Developing a crush on someone like Dean was ill advised. Plus, he didn’t want to risk making Dean uncomfortable if he happened to look too long. That would be a quick way to get out of Dean’s good graces, he was sure of it.

The next few days passed quickly. With Dean in baseball, it was almost always him and Sam doing chores in the morning. They’d then spend most of the afternoon together – either watching the shows they liked, playing video games or just reading. Dean rarely came home after practice, likely hanging out with his friends instead. But he always returned home for the evening round of chores.

They’d all have supper together. Dean went out with Lisa one night and with his friends another. He and Sam entertained themselves well, and sometimes when Dean got home, he’d join them for a while. It was the best things had been since Cas had arrived. Cas noticed that John and Mary stayed busy all day most days. She spent an exorbitant amount of time in the kitchen cooking and cleaning and she also worked in her garden and ran errands around town. John was always outside working on something that needed fixing or moving equipment around between the Winchester's farm and the other farms that they were affiliated with.

John had explained to Cas that the equipment needed to farm was very costly. Some machines were over a hundred thousand dollars and there were many needed to continue the cycle of planting and harvesting. So, some of their friends and family on nearby farms would throw in together to buy a machine and then share it. This had constraints since the window of use for each was sometimes only a week long. It got stressful, but they all managed to get by doing it.

One night at dinner, John announced that they’d start baling hay the next day. His announcement was followed by groans from both Sam and Dean so Cas had to assume this was a very undesirable job.

“How is that done?” asked Cas between mouthfuls.

“It’s a simple job, Cas. First we use tractor mowers to cut and then we drive over it with a machine that picks up the clippings and presses them into bales. They come out of a chute already bound with twine and get stacked on a flat bed. When it’s full, we empty it in to the hayloft and then go fill it up again. We’ll do that each time a field is ready. They’re planted in rotation. That way we never have to do all of them at once.”

The mowing turned out to be fun. He received a quick lesson in how to drive a tractor mower. Then he entered the field on it and began taking swipes north and south across it. With earbuds in, the job was practically fun. As the day went on, he grew better and better at navigating the tight turns at the ends of the field. It was hot and he was sweating constantly, but it was tolerable. Especially when Sam had confirmed that yes, they’d be getting extra for this.

Cas was saving it all too. He’d spent less than $80 since he’d gotten here. His dad was under the impression that his matching funds would be used for a car. But Cas had other ideas. A car? Maybe. If there's enough. But really, he had his eye on a bus or plane ticket and his first month’s rent somewhere. He wasn’t convinced that he wanted to go to the University of Illinois in Chicago. That was something his father had insisted on. Cas wanted to go to California. He wanted to revel in the free society there –join the artistic community and enjoy his life for a while before he woke up one day and found himself unwittingly living his father’s exact same life. No thanks on that. _His_ dream was California. And at the rate he was going this summer? That dream was within grasp.

Hay baling turned out to be every bit as bad as the Winchester boys had made it out to be. There were a few days between the mowing and the baling, but on the morning they began, they got up an hour early to do chores. That was bad enough. But then as soon as they were finished, John got on the baling machine and started it up. Dean, Sam and Cas climbed up onto the flat bed rack. Sam handed him two hooks. They were simple. A piece of wood to be held in each hand by a closed fist. The hook protruded from the wood and laid between his two middle fingers and essentially became his hands for lifting the bales. They donned gloves and then rode the flatbed out into the field. When the first bale came back, Cas watched as Dean stepped up to the chute and sunk his hooks into it. One at each end. Then he lifted the bale and carried it to the back and dropped it there, against the brace that would keep it from falling off the back as they drove. Sam was already spearing the second bale before Dean was even back to the front. Cas had a full grasp of this now… they’d just be lifting, carrying and stacking these giant heavy bales all day long in the hot sun on a moving vehicle. Yeah. This was gonna suck.

 

 

 

Dean watched Cas as he picked up on how to move between he and Sam. They found a rhythm and worked to keep it up as they filled the rack. Cas was stronger than Dean had thought. No wonder he’d felt capable of taking a swing at Benny. His dark clothes, mostly skinny jeans, made him look slight next to others who’s looser clothing added inches to their overall size. But now, with his shirt off and a heavy load in his arms, Dean could see his muscular back and Cas’ biceps were bulging.

As the day wore on, Dean had to be careful. He was looking at Cas too much and he was afraid Sammy would notice. All three of them were sweating profusely and with all the dust and chaff in the air from the baler they were grimy all over. Sweat tracked through the grime in rivulets, leaving streaks of clean wet skin in their wake – a stark contrast against dirty skin. Pieces of dander and stalks were sticking to them everywhere. But, the shape of Cas shoulders was a tempting feast for the eyes and his profile revealed a trim waist and marvelous abs between artfully cut hip bones. As the day wore on, jeans grew heavier as they soaked up hours and hours of sweat. Cas’ continued to ride lower and lower on his hips.

Mary came out to the field in the pickup at around 2. The three boys were able to climb into the cab and enjoy the air conditioning for about 45 minutes while she sat with John on the baler. She’d brought plenty of food, but Cas couldn’t eat much when he was this hot. He downed way too much lemonade and water though. He then spent all afternoon with Sam laughing at him as he peed off the back of the flatbed several times.

For Dean, the worst part of the day was right after lunch. Somehow, as they worked to fall back into a rhythm with the bales, Dean had wound up behind Cas instead of Sam. That meant that every two minutes he found himself standing directly behind the guy as he bent over the chute to lift out his bale. Those sagging jeans, riding low on hips, revealed the top of his ass crack when he’d bend over. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

It was sweet torture.


	4. Dean is Curious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is being edited by Ravenwolf36! Many thanks to her!

When they started running out of room on the rack, John turned back towards the field entrance. Sam and Dean immediately plopped down on bales to rest and Cas followed suit. After hours and hours of back breaking labor it was heaven to just sit down for a few minutes. They rode back towards the barn, enjoying the short break and the breeze that resulted from their increased speed.

This was their third round today, so the boys had the operation mastered. As they pulled up, Dean and Sam hopped down and began to move the elevator into place as John turned the tractor in a tight circle to bring the load of hay into the perfect position.

The ‘elevator’ as they were calling it, looked like a giant ladder to Cas. It primarily consisted of two rails side by side and it had a motor attached to it. The motor powered what looked like ladder rungs, but really weren’t. They were wide pieces of metal hooked to a chain. The chain was a giant loop which was pulled by the motor and when it was running, you could lay anything on those two rails, and the metal plates would pull it upwards toward the top. Back in Chicago, Cas had seen roofers using similar devices to bring bundles of shingles up to the rooftops of buildings.

The boys worked well together. Sam would pull a bale from the rack and lay it on the elevator and it would ride smoothly up to Dean who was in the hayloft waiting for it. He’d pull it from the elevator and stack it in the loft. Cas stayed on the flatbed, continually moving the bales from back to front so that Sam always had one in reach. When the rack was empty, they’d hop back on it and head back out into the field to fill it again.

When they took a break to do evening chores Cas told Sam, “I can’t believe doing chores feels like rest.”

After chores, they crossed the yard to the house. They were filthy from head to toe. They’d been sweating non-stop all day. Neither Dean nor Sam seemed surprised to find Mary in the front yard setting up a picnic.

Cas glanced at Sam who saw the question in his eyes and replied, “We’re too dirty to go in the house. We’ll just eat out here and then get back to work after supper.”

They’d all been up since 4 am. And, they’d been baking under a hot sun all day. They were tired and dirty. Cas followed Sam around the corner of the house where they washed their hands under the hose. The cool water felt so good that he pinched his thumb over the end of the hose to force a powerful spray. Then he whipped his wrist back and forth to send an arc of misty spray over his head. As the cool mist settled over him, he got a shiver up his spine. Soon Sam was pushing up next to him to get wet too. Then, Cas watched a shit-eating grin spread across the younger Winchester's face. As Dean walked around the corner, Sam let him have it with the hose. All three wound up laughing and shouting as they fought for control of the hose and took turns dousing each other.

No matter how serious the water fight had become, the boys were starving. So when Mary called that the food was ready, no one had to be told twice. Cas watched as John looked them over and chuckled to himself. In the smothering late afternoon heat, the cool water had been perfect. But now, just a few minutes later, his soaking wet jeans were heavy and the wet denim was itchy on his skin. He regretted the water fight already. But his mouth watered as he watched glasses of lemonade being poured and he enjoyed the tantalizing smell of the smoking grill when it drifted past on a breeze. The three boys sat down and Cas wasn’t the only one who pounded down his lemonade like it was a shot. As he was filling is glass with water, Mary was setting a giant platter of grilled steaks on the table.

“The rare ones are at this end,” she said while pointing at the huge plate of meat, “and the more well-done pieces are at the other end.”

There was also a platter of foil-wrapped baked potatoes and one loaded with corn on the cob. At the far end of the table sat a huge, ripe watermelon already sliced. Cas couldn’t hold back. He filled his plate and dove in, clearing it in record time and reaching for seconds.

As he pulled another oversized cut of steak onto his plate, he glanced across the table and saw Dean looking at him. For some reason, it surprised him for a moment. He’d grown used to seeing a contemptuous look on Dean’s face… stunningly similar to the one Cas’ father often wore. But as they’d slipped into a semblance of friendship, that malice had seemed to evaporate. Dean was looking at him with much kinder eyes now. It was just the flicker of a moment between them, and when it broke, he focused on his plate and cut into his meat. Cas found himself smiling. It was becoming easier to forget what a massive prick Dean had been at first. These days, Dean seemed almost like a real friend.

The worst of the heat had passed when they climbed back aboard the flatbed and headed back out to the field. They were all sluggish from the big meal, and John seemed to notice. He kept the speed down, letting the baler work at a slower pace to accommodate them, and then slowly picking up the pace a little each round.

They got another load into the barn and returned to the field, but weren’t able to fill the rack again before they lost the last of the daylight. By the time they were sending the last of the bales up to Dean in the hayloft, John had pointed the headlights of the pick-up truck at them. It was the only light they had to see by.

When they finally had everything locked down and the equipment put away it was almost 10pm. This had been the single longest workday Cas had ever imagined. Yes, they’d taken some nice long breaks… but 18 hours? Damn.

When they came inside, John announced that they could sleep til 5:30 am. The baler needed to be on someone else’s farm in the morning but John wanted to hurry and get the last of that field done first. So, Mary would be doing chores for them in the morning. And they would need to be on ready to jump on the rack at 6:00 am sharp. “When there’s daylight,” he said firmly, “our asses need to be workin'.”

The brothers nodded. Cas asked for aspirin.

Much like his first night here, his allotted time for sleeping passed in a blink. He woke with a startle when there was a knock at his door and he fumbled out of bed before his eyes were even open. He knew if he laid back down he’d fall asleep. Johns, “Don’t make me come in there,” was unspoken but Cas was no less aware of it.

His muscles screamed in protest as he pulled on a pair of pants, grabbed socks and navigated down the stairs with crusty eyes and a sluggish mind. Breakfast was on the stove and Mary was strangely absent from the kitchen. It felt colder without her presence.

Cas tucked his socks under his arm and grabbed a plate. It was difficult. His fingers didn’t want to bend at all, stiff and sore from being fisted around hook handles all day yesterday. He pulled biscuits from one pan and scooped thick sausage gravy from another. Settling at the table, he put on his socks first and then scooted up to eat. He’d had several bites before he realized he’d literally been eating with his eyes closed.

“Need coffee?” asked Sam from behind him, “Or a cattle prod?”

“I… I don’t understand that… what’s a cattle prod?”

“Stun gun for cows,” laughed Sam as he pushed a cup of steaming coffee in front of Cas.

“How are you so awake?” Cas grumped at him.

“Easy. Dean got me back for yesterday.”

“How?”

“I was in the shower and he threw a big ass glass of ice-cold fucking water on me,” laughed Sam.

“Clearly your Mother's already out doing chores,” commented John as he walked into the kitchen, “If she heard you drop the f-bomb in her kitchen she’d thump your head with a skillet.”

Cas found himself chuckling at them on the inside, despite how tired and cranky he was.

“You boys ready to put a hurt on that field?”

No one answered. They were busy chewing.

“I promised your uncle Bobby I’d have that baler over there by lunch. We’ve got no time to waste.”

Both Sam and Cas began shoveling food in faster knowing that John would be ready to leave soon and they’d have no choice but to follow him out the door whether they were done or not.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Shower.”

John got up and went to the bottom of the stairs, yelling for Dean. A few minutes later he came thumping down. He grabbed a plate but John interrupted saying, “No time for plates boy. It’s almost six. Grab what you can carry.”

Cas caught Dean’s eye roll and watched as he grabbed two biscuits. He pushed one into the pocket of his flannel shirt and the other he opened and spread with jelly. As usual, when John stood up – they all stood up. Cas grabbed an uneaten biscuit from his plate and stuffed it in the pocket of his own flannel and followed them to the screened in back porch. Dean was cramming his biscuit in his mouth as he shoved his feet into his boots and had a colossal sized bite that he worked on while he laced them up. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk. It was fucking adorable.

“You ok?” Dean asked him as they marched across the wet grass in the early morning light.

“Yeah, why?”

“Dunno. Ya look tired.”

“Do I? Can’t figure why,” Spat Cas sarcastically.

Dean only grinned at his crankiness so Cas handed him the pocket biscuit.

“Thanks,” he said as he clapped Cas on the shoulder and began eating.

When they climbed up on the rack, Sam handed Cas his hooks. It hurt to even hold them. He cringed as he put on his gloves, blisters raw under the heavy fabric of them. When he sank his hooks into the first bale, he felt tears prick to eyes. Everything hurt. His palms, his fingers, his arms, his back and even his legs. It was agony. But he gritted his teeth and he did it. And as he was heaving bale after bale, his mind flicked back to the first day he’d met these two boys. He’d compared them to Ken dolls. Now he could see that they were anything but.

As they came to the end of their first pass, they discarded their over shirts. Shortly after, they were shucking t-shirts too. As the sun climbed higher it beat down on them. Sweat stung in Cas’ eyes and his blisters and he found himself actually _fantasizing_ about a cool glass of lemonade. When the rack was full, they headed for the barn. Mary was nowhere to be seen. But she was busy. She had the work of three people to do this morning. She’d thought of them though. The pick-up was turned around so that they’d see the tailgate when they pulled up. She’d set out a cooler for them. Inside were cans of Mt. Dew, some fruit and a lidded plastic container of chocolate muffins.

When the load was tucked away into the loft, they raided the cooler and hopped back on the flat bed. As they rode back out to the field, they ate and drank. They all felt the tractor slow down, a sign that the baler was engaging. Cas gritted his teeth and stood with the brothers, following behind Dean and waiting while he took his bale. Cas watched the guys back muscles clench as he lifted his load. A streak of sweat rolled down between his sun-kissed shoulder blades. Cas had something new to fantasize about now. And with this new position in the rotation, he’d get to watch again and again as Dean worked right in front of him. The man’s bending, lifting and heaving were a nice distraction for the pains of his labor.

He didn’t even notice how close they were getting to the fenceline until it was running next to them. Cass looked around. This was it. The last swipe. When they headed back to the barn that time, the load was small and easily put away. John walked up to them as they were tugging their gloves off and retrieving their shirts.

“You boys did a mighty fine job,” he said, “The day is yours. I’ll take care of chores tonight. Have some fun and get some rest, alright?”

“Yes sir,” they all replied enthusiastically as they began to take off towards the house.

“Castiel?” called John from behind him.

“Yes, sir?”

John put a hand on his shoulder and used it to turn him and then they began walking side-by-side across the yard. “Let’s see those palms.”

Cas grinned as he showed the man his giant, angry blisters.

“Ya did good son, real good. I’m proud of ya,” he said.

“Thank you sir,” Cas answered.

“Your daddy tells me that you’re all set to go off to college this fall.”

“Yes sir.”

“He mentioned that you’re not quite sold on the idea.”

“Sir?”

“Baling hay is manual labor Cas. There are lots of different forms of manual labor. There’s agriculture, manufacturing, processing… did you like it? Manual labor?”

“Like it?”Cas questioned – uncertain of what John was getting at.

“Do you want to do that kind of work for the rest of your life?”

“No sir.”

“Good. You skip out on college… or don’t finish… you’ll have to earn your living with your hands instead of your brain. You remember that ok?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright, go on now, get in some trouble,” chuckled John, clearly dismissing him. He picked up his pace and headed for the house. Behind him, he heard John start up the tractor.

The house was notably still when Cas entered. Sam and Dean were likely upstairs and Mary was still out doing chores. John was driving the tractor and baler over to another farm. He climbed the stairs, preparing to wait for his turn in the shower.

“Got trunks?” Dean asked him as he brushed past in the hall.

“Huh?”

“Trucks, Cas. Swim trunks. Ya got any?”

“No?”

“C’mere,” he said, gesturing for him to follow. Cas trailed behind Dean and into the boys room. This was the first time he’d seen it. It was nice enough. Comfy looking bed, matching dresser and desk, posters on the walls. Most of the posters were of rock bands like AC/DC and Lynyrd Skynyrd. There were a few ball players too, but Cas had no idea who they were. He didn’t follow sports at all.

There were clothes all over the floor and Dean just stepped right over them as he moved to the dresser and began digging through it. He tossed a pair of swim trunks at Cas without looking, “Will those fit?”

“Probably.”

“Good. We’re goin' to the quarry.”

Cas watched Dean step out into the hall and down to Sam's room. “You ready?” he said as he pushed open the door.

“Fuck Dean… knock wouldja?” barked Sam, one leg in and one leg out of his pants.

“We’re leavin'. You comin' or not?”

“Yes. Fuckin get out,” he laughed, throwing his pants at Dean.

Cas had no idea where they were going, but Dean slid in behind the driver’s seat of the pick-up and Cas hopped in too. It didn’t matter where Dean was taking him when he was like this… green eyes bright with mischief and a smile that lit up his face like the sun.

Sam hopped up in the truck cab behind him and pushed him over to the center, smashing him between the two brothers. Dean was turning on the stereo and Sam was rolling down his window. No one seemed to notice that someone had sucked all the air out of the cab of the truck when Cas’ thigh had buttressed up against Deans.

Okay, this little crush on Dean was only getting worse. He needed to work on it. If he wanted any hope of keeping things friendly with Dean, the last thing he should do is give the boy any indication that he was lustful towards him.

Dean had been surprisingly accepting of Cas’ sexuality. The last thing he wanted to do was creep him out and make him sorry he’d been friendly.

Cas shifted his weight towards Sam, where the touch was comfortable instead of sensual. He also directed his conversation at Sam too, “How far is it?”

“Not even five minutes,” answered Sam.

“I’ve never swam in a quarry before.”

“It’s just like any other lake,” he said dismissively.

And it was. Except it wasn’t. There was nothing here. No park benches, no restrooms, no restaurant or even a soda machine. No businesses. No houses. Nothing but a small lake surrounded by trees and rocks. They were completely alone here.

Dean reached into the backseat and grabbed the towels that Cas hadn’t noticed him bringing. Sam and Cas walked side-by-side behind Dean. They had to follow a foot trail through a small band of trees to reach the water’s edge. Immediately it was obvious that this place was used by teens. There was trash laying around and the evidence of previous bonfires. The water was about twelve feet below them at the bottom of a steep slope which was covered with rocks and clumps of tall grasses. A massive rope was hanging from a tree branch with a knot at the bottom, positioned perfectly over an outcropping of rock.

Cas watched as Dean strode forward purposefully, breaking into a run as he neared the edgeand then launching himself into the air. He grabbed the rope as if he were Tarzan, pulling his legs up and bringing his feet to rest on the knot. He was graceful as he flung himself out over the water, his body the pendulum swinging from its pivot point on the branch above.

When his inertia was expended and Dean’s body reached the top of its arc, he hung there for a moment as is if suspended in time. In that moment, Cas felt a clinch in his heart. The sun was radiating a warm tawnyglow that wrapped Dean’s dark silhouette in gold. He was magnificent. Cas was spellbound as he watched Dean release the rope at precisely the right moment and then plunge to the water below. Sam took off too – following behind Dean and mimicking his movements. When Sam let go of the rope, he tucked his head into his body and summersaulted into the water.

The brother’s splashes were like a one-two punch into the silence. On the heels of that came laughter as the boys surfaced and began splashing each other. Cas looked down at his palms, very much wanting to take a turn on the swing, but unable to find the will to disregard the pain prickling under this last remaining layer of tender pink skin.

Rather than swing out on the rope, he simply moved to the outcropping of rock and took a flying leap, doing his best to summersault as he vaulted. He came up short. His back slapped the water hard, and it stung as he sank.

When he surfaced, he could hear the brothers howling in laughter at his pain. It pissed him off too. He swam up on them and heaved himself forward, putting his forearms down on Sam’s shoulders and thrusting all his weight onto the boy – dunking him hard and fast. They played roughly for a while, taking turns dunking and splashing and laughing and choking. The water here was partially shaded by the tree line and it was cool – a welcome relief after having been so hot for so long.

Eventually they settled down, floating in and out of the shade of the trees, watching the clouds over head. They even talked a little… counting off how many hours they’d spent baling hay and subtracting the lost income from not doing chores to figure out how much they’d be getting. Dean was putting all of his proceeds towards purchasing the Impala. Sam was telling him how cheaply he could buy something that was just as good. Dean would not be dissuaded.

“How much is it worth?” asked Cas.

“The Impala? It’s mint. If it’s worth a dollar it’s worth $20,000.”

“How much is he asking for it?”

“Five thousand.”

“Well,” said Cas reasonably, “then you’re a fool not to buy it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and swam off – clearly disgusted that he was out voted.

“I’ve been workin on buyin that car since sophomore year,” said Dean, “I’m only about $1500 away from having it paid for. Gotta get my hands on that baby before I leave for college. What are you saving for Cas?” asked Dean.

“A car I guess.”

“Nope. I can tell you’re lying. You’re sucky liar you know that?” teased Dean, flicking water on him.

“I need to get out,” chuckled Cas, “I’m a raisin. Look.” He held his palms up towards Dean. His skin was shriveled and it gave the blisters a texture like a jelly fish would have.

“Damn Cas!” cursed Dean, reaching out and taking Cas’ hand into his own to look closer, “Why didn’t you say anything? Those are bad.”

“Don’t you have blisters too?” asked Cas, curious.

“Well, sure. But not like that… see?” Cas missed the loss of Deans hand the moment it was released. He squinted and looked closely at Dean’s palm, too afraid to take the boys hand and hold it like Dean had done with him.

“Yours aren’t near as bad. How come?”

“Well, I’ve got callouses… from doing this enough. We do it a few times each summer. Plus I push mow a lot too and shovel out stalls. All that stuff gives you calluses… keeps ya from gettin' too tore up.”

“Yeah, Dean,” snarked Sam from behind him as he swam up, “tell us how ya _really_ got those calluses.”

“Fuck off Sammy – or I’ll ask to see your palms!”

“Hey Cas,” laughed Sam, “Did he show you his left or his right?”

Cas couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

“C’mon Cas, tell me! Is my brother a lefty or a righty?”

Dean silenced him quickly – shoving his head underwater and laughing as his brother flailed. He winked at Cas as he held his brother down. It was all in good fun, but Cas closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to commit that wink to memory. He wanted to be able to recall that wink until he was an old man on his deathbed.

When they got back to the house, the sun was sinking low in the sky. The table was set and as the boys trudged past it, wet and dripping, Cas watched both Dean and Sam look around to be sure they were alone before snitching rolls from the bread basket.

Upstairs, each went to their own room. Cas peeled off the wet trunks he’d borrowed from Dean and draped them over one of the plastic tubs in the corner. Then he pulled on a pair of soft sleep pants and t-shirt before heading over to Sam’s room. They settled in on bean bag chairs, as was their custom, and played video games until Mary called them down for supper.

Roast beef and baby potatoes. It was fantastic. After, Mary cut into a deep dish of warm cobbler and gave them each a dish of it with scoops of melting ice cream on top. “It must be good,” she laughed lightly, “No one’s talking.”

They nodded at her as they downed the sweet treat and then ambled to the living room with full bellies. They ended up falling asleep watching another episode of Game of Thrones. Cas woke briefly when he felt someone covering him over with a blanket. It was Mary. She smiled at him sweetly and ran her fingers through his hair. It was such a motherly thing to do. He wanted to hug her, but instead he snuggled down in the blanket and smiled at her as she backed away from him. Damn, he missed his mom so much. He tried to loose himself in sleep again to avoid thinking about it.

When he woke again, it was to a gentle tapping on his calf. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked around. The room was dark and quiet. Everyone must’ve gone to bed. He looked towards his feet and saw Dean.

“What?” he asked groggily.

“You gonna sleep down here all night?” Dean whispered.

“Guess not,” he answered, shrugging off the cozy blanket and sitting up.

“Wanna go burn one?” Dean asked him.

“What time is it?”

“Just after midnight.”

“Okay.”

They walked silently through the house and onto the back porch, pausing to push their feet into work boots, but not making the effort to tie them. They clomped across the yard under a bright moon and ducked around the corner behind the machine shed. Cas followed Dean through the little door and they settled themselves on the cement-couch.

Dean pulled a joint and lighter from the pocket of his flannel pants. Cas thought the material of Deans pants looked soft and he longed to touch it. Touch Dean.

Instead he watched as Dean lit up, inhaled and passed to him. They sat quietly, smoking and listening to the drone of the crickets and cicadas. “Should've brought my phone,” said Cas softly, “it’s too quiet like this. I need music.”

“I’ve got mine,” said Dean, “whatcha wanna hear?”

“Don’t care. Anything but crickets.”

Dean smiled, as he flicked through music on his phone and said, “Floyd’s good for smokin'.” He set his phone down behind them and leaned in to pass the joint again. Wish You Were Here began to play; the sound of it was melancholy as it echoed off the stone walls around them, husky strained voice and soft acoustic guitar.

“You did good Cas,” said Dean as he passed the joint again, “Baling hay is a shit job. Thought a city boy like you might bitch-out. But you didn’t. You baled hay like a boss. Bad Ass, Cas,” he finished quietly, “Bad Ass.”

Cas warmed under Dean’s praise. Fearful of it being seen, he kept his eyes on the cherry of the joint. Watching it attentively as it burned steadily at his fingertips.

“Whatcha think of the quarry?”

“It was smaller than I thought it would be,” said Cas honestly.

“You think it’s small?”

“Well, yeah. But I guess I’m used to a pretty big lake,” he said grinning as he finally looked over at Dean again.

“What lake is that?”

“Lake Michigan dumbass,” laughed Cas as he snuffed out the joint.

“Hey,” barked Dean, “I wasn’t done with that!”

“I think you’ve had enough…” grinned Cas as he mimicked Deans voice teasingly, “What lake?”

Dean thumped him on the back of the head as they ducked back out the little door. And once he was standing he gave the kid a shove and got one in return. They ambled back across the lawn. Cas forked away from Dean near the barn.

“Where you goin'?” Dean asked him.

“I wanna check out the hayloft. Go ahead inside, I’ll be right in.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, turning to follow.

Cas didn’t turn on a light when he walked in the barn, no longer needing one to navigate the half dozen steps from the door the ladder. He climbed it and stepped into the hayloft. The entire thing looked different now. Dean had been up here for the last two days pulling bales off the elevator and stacking them. When Cas had first arrived this summer, the bales had been stacked a good twelve to fifteen feet high along the back wall. Now they were taking up half the room. The moonlight shone in through the grimy windows at both ends, giving them just enough light to move around but not enough to really see well. The top layer of bales towered high overhead. There was not enough room up there to walk on the bales… only to crawl.

The areas along the walls were still clear – they had to be, in order to access the trap doors that allowed them to feed the animals. But with that exception, the loft was packed nearly to its rafters on the entire north side. The bales were stacked like steps again in the front, so it was easy to climb up them, even in his untied boots.

When he reached the top, he crawled across the top until he’d reached the back wall. Then, on his knees in the hay, he pushed open the tiny little window that couldn’t be reached before. Looking down he could see the cornfield to the north and if he leaned out a bit and looked to the west, he could see the field they’d baled all this hay from. He took a deep breath of the night air and then closed the window.

“So cool,” he mumbled.

“Not really,” said Dean from behind him. Cas startled, practically jumped out of his boots, not realizing Dean had followed him this far back, “But then again, I’ve spent a lot of hours up here lately,” he said with a huff of laughter. “What is it you like about this place Cas?”

“I don’t know. I just like it,” he said, sitting down and leaning back against the wall. “It’s too bad we can’t smoke here.”

“Yeah… it would be more comfortable,” added Dean. “Me and Sammy used to play up here all the time. We’d build these amazing forts with the bales. Mom would even let us sleep up here sometimes… like a camp out. We’d bring pillows and blankets and flashlights. Play cards up here all night. She’d bring us snacks…”

“Sounds awesome,” said Cas, “Really awesome.”

“It was.”

They were silent for a few minutes and Cas’ eyes started growing heavy. He was just getting ready to call it a night and crawl back down when Dean spoke again.

“Do you still have a thing for Cole?”

Well that’s out of the blue, thought Cas. “Umm, no. Why?”

“I just wondered.”

“Nope. Forgot all about him,” said Cas as he began to crawl out.

“I’m gonna break up with Lisa,” said Dean from behind him.

“Why?”

“I’m not into it anymore. It’s getting to be a chore.”

“You got someone else in mind then? Or are you setting yourself up to be a single man when you go off to school?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, Cas. But I like your idea… single for college.”

They were covered in hay when they got to the bottom of the ladder. It wasn’t like before though… they weren’t sweaty and it didn’t stick to them. It brushed right off and left its sweet smell behind on Cas’ sleep pants. He smiled, loving the scent and loving this time with Dean. He tried not to let it be obvious how much he enjoyed feeling Dean’s fingers in his hair as the guy plucked straw out of it for him.

But then, something was wrong. Something on Dean’s face had shifted. Cas was instantly fearful. Did Dean see the little crush that Cas had been working so hard to hide? Fear trickled into his bones and he grew cold with it as he watched Dean stare at him. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again, not knowing what to say to fix it. Then, he felt a soft touch to his arm. He dropped his eyes to look and saw Dean’s fingers as they slid around his wrist.

Unsure what to make of the touch, he looked back to Dean’s face. It was unreadable. Maybe Dean didn’t know what this kind of touch meant to a gay guy… but what did it mean to a straight man? He’d never seen a straight guy take someone’s wrist like this. Never.

He looked down again as he felt a tug to his wrist… there was no mistaking this. Dean was pulling him closer. When his eyes swept up again, they found Dean nearer. Cas watched as Deans eyes drifted down to his lips and back up again.

Cas was aching for this to be real… not a dream… let it be real.

And it was. When Dean’s lips pressed to his there was no mistaking this for a dream. Dean’s lips were soft and plump – Cas had snuck covert glances at them more times than he could count. And now, they were pushing… pushing Cas’ lips apart. A jolt of electricity snaked through him as Dean’s warm tongue slid between his lips. His body responded as if it had waited a hundred years for this kiss. Unbidden, his arms wrapped tightly around Dean’s neck and pulled their bodies close. He tilted his head to the side for a better angle and sank in – sliding his tongue alongside Deans and brushing them together.

Dean tasted like every delicious thing there ever was… and the warm cherry cobbler from dinner. When he inhaled a ragged breath, he took in the sweet and heavy smell of weed and the thick scent of hay.

And then it was over. Dean pulled away quickly and stepped back as though Cas had shoved him. “That was… that was…” stammered Dean, “… I was just… curious… don’t tell anybody, ok? Can we just pretend that never happened?”

Cas had to work to pull his mouth closed – it was hanging open in disbelief. His fingers reached up and touched his lips, still wet from their kiss. “I don’t understand Dean…” he tried softly. But Dean was moving again. There where fists in his t-shirt and Cas found himself being shoved roughly back into the wall. Dean’s face was angry as he spat out hateful words, “I’m no fag. I don’t wear fuckin make-up and I don’t suck cock. Okay? Okay Cas?”

“Okay Dean,” he said softly, biting back tears, “I got it.”


	5. Curiosity Satisfied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ravenwolf36 for editing - and for the chapters title! :)

“Okay Dean,” he said softly, biting back tears, “I got it.”

Dean’s face as he stepped away from Cas was heartbreaking. He so clearly regretted the things that had just come out of his mouth. But even after Cas waited a moment, leaned on the wall and gave Dean a chance to speak, he didn’t apologize.

Cas watched the boy’s face harden before his eyes. The Dean who stood in front of him now wasn’t his friend. This was the Dean he’d met when he first arrived. Cas stepped forward and tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke.

“Dean, I understand. You were just curious. This meant nothing to you. I understand that. So I’m sure you’ll understand that I’m curious too.” And with that, he gave himself silent permission. He stepped forward, pulled his elbow back, coiled his muscles tightly and then let the anger, hurt and rejection punch its way out.  Dean’s face registered shock as he saw Cas’ fist snap forward.

There was a very satisfying crunch of bone as his fist collided with Dean’s face. He felt Dean’s jaw rattle as his head was thrown back. The pain of landing the blow immediately began to radiate through his fist and up his arm. He bit his lip to keep from cursing out loud and bent his knees in preparation to duck should Dean retaliate.

But he didn’t. He just stumbled backward a few steps and raised his hand to cradle his jaw. The look on his face was utter shock.

“I was curious about what it would feel like to punch your smug face. Now, you’ve satisfied your curiosity and I’ve satisfied mine. I’m glad we understand each other,” he said as he turned to leave. He didn’t bother closing the door behind himself and he didn’t look back as he crossed the yard in the dark. He forced himself to enter the house quietly and walked upstairs to his room. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his body, he laid down in his bed. He tried to sleep, but it was halfhearted. He knew better than to imagine he could sleep with all that he was feeling. He kept his breathing quiet, listening for Dean’s footfalls on the stairs.

Cas had no idea why he was so focused on Dean coming upstairs, but for some reason he was. Tired of being hyper focused on it, he put earbuds in and set a playlist to distract him. Even when he’d calmed down, sleep wouldn’t come.

He thought of his time with the Winchesters so far. It had been far different than what he’d expected when he came here. He’d expected John to be just like his father. But John was quite different. He didn’t look at Cas like there was something wrong with him. He looked at Cas like he had potential, like it was his job to cultivate it. Cas liked John. And he liked Mary too. She was very much like his own mother had been… unfailingly kind and attentive. As he thought of his mother, he remembered her face. Its memory had grown softer already. Fuzzy. Soft around the edges. Her eyes, however, were always sharp and clear in his mind. He saw them every time he looked in a mirror. Tears tracked down his cheek as he thought of her and the gaping hole in his life that was left when she’d died. He ached with the need to be held by her and to hear her voice in his ear as she hugged him and told him how much she loved him and what a special boy he was.

Alone in his room, he had no need to wipe his cheeks. He just closed his wet eyes and let the memory of her wash over him. And then there was banging on his door. Ugh. 5am already. It was relentless.

He fumbled out of the bed and into the bathroom. Standing over the sink he used a warm, wet washcloth to wipe his face where dried tear streaks stained his cheeks. Sadness clung to him like a wet shirt as he walked back to his room. He was certain that the lingering grief stemmed more from contemplating his mother last night than from Dean’s actions in the barn. But Dean’s rejection had been the catalyst that sent him into his own head in the first place and he knew he was going to be miserable for quite a while. Dean’s kiss had been incredible, but he’d have given up the experience in a heartbeat to have never seen the look of rejection on the boy’s face as he’d stepped away. It had cut him deeply.

Downstairs, life went on as usual. Mary was working at the counter when he entered the kitchen and he could smell fresh strawberries. When he stepped up beside her he saw that she was smashing them in a bowl with a potato masher. He watched her dump a cup of sugar into the large glass bowl of strawberry soup. “What is that?” he asked her.

“Oh, just something to put on the waffles,” she said, “And whatever’s left over will become fruit salad at lunch. I’ll add bananas and oranges to it.”

He watched her as he she stirred the sugar in and then heard a beep.

“That’s your waffle,” she said, turning to extract it, “grab a plate for me sweetie?”

He nodded and pulled a plate from the cupboard, waiting while she forked it out of the waffle maker for him. It smelled incredible. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until the scent tickled his nose and woke up the rest of him. He moved to the table and when she followed him over with the berry’s he let her ladle two large spoons of it over his waffle. She pushed the bowl of whip cream towards him and he added that too before sinking his fork in and taking a bite. It was perfect. Crunchy on the outside, warm and soft on the inside. The juice from the strawberries tinted the waffles bright pink as it soaked into them and the combination of sweet and tangy was delightful. He couldn’t chew and swallow fast enough. He was accepting seconds from her as Sam bustled in and settled at the table. Shortly after, John sat down too.

“You still canning today?” he asked her.

“You bet,” she smiled as she dropped a waffle on her husband’s plate, “and making jam.”

“Alright boys,” said John. “I’ve got an extra $20 for anybody willing to help Mary in the kitchen for the afternoon.”

Sam and Cas exchanged a look and a nod. Both were of a mindset to take any additional work offered to them. But $20 for easy, inside work? Hell yeah.

Cas was sluggish from overdoing it at breakfast, but he did his best not slow down Sam as they worked in the barn. He tried not to think about Dean but it was hard with nothing to occupy his mind. He’d hated the guy so much when they’d met… known from the beginning that he was trouble. Hot trouble. Desirable. But trouble none-the-less.

At least when they’d started becoming friends, there had been respect between them. All traces of that were gone now. Two images kept flashing to his mind more than any others. The first was Dean’s face when he’d moved in to kiss. The other was the twisted look of disgust he’d been wearing when he’d said, “I don’t wear make-up and I don’t suck cock!”

As they worked down the rows of stalls, shoveling shit into wheelbarrows, Cas tried to promise himself that he wouldn’t pine for Dean. How could he possibly allow himself to be sad over someone who would talk to him that way? Logically it made sense. But explaining the logic to his heart was going to take some doing. Even now, with the exchange so fresh in mind, he was wanting Dean. His mind conjured fantasies for him which he repeatedly dismissed… Dean begging for forgiveness… Dean grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into a kiss… Dean standing up at the dinner table and professing his love for Cas in front of the entire family. He squinted his eyes shut and willed them away. But they were persistent.

When the chores were finished and they’d taken showers, they headed down to the kitchen. Mary had a radio on and she was singing along to Reba McIntyre. Cas looked around the kitchen – there was a wide variety of buckets on the counter and they were all filled with strawberries. She put him and Sam to work at the sink. Cas was plucking their stems out of them with a tiny little tool, one at a time. Then he’d rinse the berry and lay it on a paper towel. Sam would blot it dry and cut it up into pieces. There was one bowl of perfectly cut red berry chunks in front of Sam and in the cheerful kitchen it looked like a picture from a cooking magazine.

John was seated at the table reading the paper when Dean came in. Cas worked to not look at him, but heard the thump of his ball glove hitting the table and the legs of the chair scrape the floor as Dean settled into it. Cas could see Mary out of the corner of his eye. She put down what she was doing and went to the fridge. She was chatting to Dean as she spread out bread and mayo and began putting together a sandwich for him. “This should tide you over until lunch,” she said as she set it down in front of him and kissed the top of his head.

Cas heard John’s newspaper rustle and be laid down on the table. “Well son, what happened to your face?”

Cas went cold. It hadn’t occurred to him that he may have to explain his actions… that he may be accountable in some way for striking this man’s son… that someone may be inclined to call his father about it. Cas suddenly realized that Dean could totally fuck him over – he could say anything. He could make up any lie he wanted and they’d all believe him. Especially since Cas hadn’t bothered talking to anyone about what had happened. He listened carefully without turning his head to hear what Dean would say to his father.

The silence was getting tense, so Cas chanced a glance over his shoulder. He’d looked just in time to see Dean shrug in a non-comital way.

“Baseball’s not supposed to be a contact sport, son,” laughed John Winchester.

Cas relaxed then, seeing that Dean planned to remain silent about the origins of his purple cheek. He went back to his berries. Around him, Sam and Mary spoke to Dean and John. Cas kept his eyes down and focused on his work. And that became his new life here on Winchester Farms. He kept his eyes down and his hands busy. Things were still good with he and Sam, and Sam’s room became his safe place. Dean never came in Sam’s room while Cas was in there and it was more comfortable that way.

He did his chores, hung out with Sam, read a few books and counted the days. He worked to keep the Dean daydreams out and focus on the California daydreams instead. He still loved the hayloft, and he went there often to draw or read. There were barn cats around the property, but they steered clear of the people – basically wild. But there was one who would come near if Cas sat still long enough. He loved having something warm and furry curling up near his feet as he sketched.

Cas missed his friends and texted back and forth with them often. He occasionally got a text from one of his new friends here too; but he declined all offers to join them when he was invited out. He didn’t want Dean to feel like he was trying to push into his life. Even Benny had texted him once. He had apologized for his behavior at Molly’s party and Cas had been happy to forget about it, but he didn’t want to get any more involved with Deans best friend than he already was. This wasn’t his new home. He wasn’t here to make new friends. He was here to bide his time, earn his money, please his father, receive his matching funds and then… then he’d be able to buy himself a bus ticket west.

The night of Dean’s first baseball game, he thought of faking a headache so that he wouldn’t have to go. But he simply couldn’t abide the thought of lying to Mary. He sat next to Sam at the game and forced himself to cheer for Dean, just to avoid having to explain why he didn’t. He was waiting in line at the concession stand when Mary stepped up next to him. “What are you getting?”

“Just a coke.”

“I’m going to get a giant pretzel,” she said with a smile, “Would you like one too?”

“Sure, thank you.”

When it was their turn, she bought three and three cokes. He helped her carry it all back and handed off one to Sam. He turned and watched Mary from his seat, smiling as she split her pretzel in half and shared it with John. After the game, they parked the minivan in the garage and emptied out of it. But as the others were heading to the house, Mary tugged on his arm and softly said, “Take a walk with me?”

He nodded and fell in step beside her. They walked toward the big barn, but hung a left when they reached it and began following the gravel lane that led to the highway. “How have you been feeling lately Cas?”

“Ok, I guess.”

“Are you homesick?”

“No.”

“Well, something’s wrong. Will you tell me what it is?”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?” he asked her.

She turned to him as they walked, her hair blowing in a gentle night breeze, and said, “You’ve been unhappy. How could I not notice? You seemed okay until a week or two ago. I doubt there’s anything I can do to help, but I’d like to know what’s wrong, just in case.”

“Just in case you can help?” he asked her.

“Just in case it helps you to talk about it,” she clarified.

He smiled at her and nodded. He’d love to dump his problems on her and let her console him. He wanted to tell her that he’d been played. That Dean’s hard won friendship had been lost and that it wasn’t even his fault. He’d respected the boundary… it had been Dean that crossed it.

He wanted to tell her that his mother’s birthday was coming up and it always made him a little sad. And he wanted to tell her that he wished his father was someone who could love him and be proud of him for who he is, rather than being disappointed in him for not being what he wants his son to be.

He wanted to tell her that he disliked the idea of going to college so close to his father… that he longed to go somewhere different… somewhere new and start over. But he didn’t tell her anything.

The air around them was moving softly and it carried the scent of freshly mowed grass. It felt good to be walking with her and when she linked her arm around his, he didn’t pull away.

“It’s not easy being your age, Cas. I know that. The adults are always giving you mixed signals. They tell you in one breath that these are the best days of your life and to enjoy them. Then in the next breath they tell you that your entire future is riding on the decisions you make now and that you have to make the _right_ ones and take things seriously. Everyone is expecting you to do what _they_ think you should do. It’s a hard time. Especially when you don’t really know what you want to do, right?”

“That’s right,” he said as she struck the nail on the head, “I don’t have a dream to become something. I just have a dream of getting away from people telling me what to do all the time.”

“Well, some people are blessed with a very specific dream. Maybe they want to be a doctor or a teacher or a firefighter… whatever it is. Having that vision of what they want from life is a gift. It makes it easy to live – to work towards fulfillment. But I’ll be honest with you Castiel… the people who have a clear vision of their future are few and far between. Most of us, even when we’re older, still don’t have any one single dream we’re focused on. And I don’t have any answers for you. But I can give you some advice to disregard,” she chuckled as she effortlessly spun them around at the end of the lane and pointed them back towards the house, “I can tell you that from now until your old like me – life is grand. It’s a feast for the soul. The things we see around us are beautiful. The scenery outside our windows, the books we read, the movies we watch, the people we meet, the trips we take, even the foods we try are all things that enrich our lives. The lack of a specific dream doesn’t have to leave you feeling empty. You can choose to embrace it. You can let life unfold for you like it’s a surprise! You can wake up twenty years from now and think to yourself, ‘Wow! I never saw this coming!’ and find yourself amazed at the life you’ve led.”

Cas didn’t know what to say. Her clarity and insight had been much needed. Her honesty had been much appreciated. He’d never wanted to hug someone so much in his life. She must’ve seen it on him too, because she didn’t hesitate to lean in. She wrapped her loving arms around him and let him bury his face in her shoulder. She didn’t let go until he did. He had to wipe his eyes when they started walking again but when he settled into his bed that night, he felt better than he had in a long time.

 

 

 

Dean was lying awake in his bed, restless. The house was quiet and he felt like he might crawl out of his skin. Realizing that he was getting worse, not better, he slung his legs out from under his sheet and got to his feet. He moved stealthily to his closet and pulled his cowboy boots from the back. From inside of the left one he pulled out his bag of weed and his lighter. He tucked them into the pocket of his sleep pants and moved slowly down the hall. He paused outside of Cas’ door – as he often did. He considered knocking and then dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. He moved on, taking the stairs slowly in an effort to be quiet.

There wasn’t much of a moon as he crossed the lawn, heading for the silo. And when he ducked down to pass through the small door, he was startled.

“Didn’t know you’d be out here,” he said as he came face to face with Cas.

Cas nodded, tapped out his roach, and got to his feet. Dean couldn’t help but notice how his pajama pants rode low on his hips. The shoulders he’d coveted on the hay rack and once dared to hold were close. He could reach out and touch Cas if he wanted to. And he wanted to. But Cas’ blue eyes were cold fire and Dean couldn’t hold the gaze. He dropped his eyes to the floor as he moved into the space and sat down on the cement-couch. Cas headed for the door.

“Don’t leave on my account,” he said with a bit of bite.

“Whatever,” said Cas cooly as he ducked low through the tiny door. 

Dean held his breath for a moment, hoping Cas would stay. But he didn’t. A few minutes later, with a pot-induced sense of contentment, Dean headed back in the house and curled up in his bed. With his mind loose and wandering, thoughts of Cas wormed their way in. Dean’s chest grew warm thinking of their kiss. He’d loved the way Cas had looked so uncertain and so hopeful as he’d been pulled closer. Their mouths had been eager and Dean’s dick twitched just thinking of how he’d felt that night. He kicked his sheets back and wrapped his hand around himself, careful to be quiet as he stroked himself to thoughts of how he _wished_ that encounter had ended. He imagined their bodies pressing together and how heavily his heart would have beat as he’d sank down into the hay with Cas. When he came, he gasped out his release into a dirty sock from the floor and then rolled over, satisfied and ready to sleep.

All night, Cas slipped in and out of his dreams. Some were pleasant and some were not. But when he woke he was empty inside and angry at himself for being the way he was.


	6. Making Amends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Ravenwolf36 for editing (and for another great chapter title!)

Most of Dean’s teammates complained about having to get up early for baseball practice. Not Dean. For Dean the early morning practices meant getting an extra hour of sleep. It was a bummer to loose half of his chore money each day, as he missed the morning chores for practice. But it was worth it because he loved playing ball. Plus, the summer was a third over and he had managed to give his father back $600 so far. He was on track to leave for college in his baby.

His other goal of the summer had been to simply kick back and have fun. He’d definitely been doing that. He hadn’t missed a party yet. He’d had a great time cutting loose with his friends. Dumping Lisa had been more of a relief than he’d expected. It was marvelous to be out with his friends or at parties and not have to expend the energy to keep up pretenses with a girl. He’d been single for almost two weeks now and found that he really didn’t miss the occasional lay, which had been his only real perk in having a girlfriend.

Unfortunately, Cas was front and center in Dean’s mind most of the time. So, in some ways, he wished Cas hadn’t come here. He could live without the constant torture of having the guy around. It was tough to spend so much time in the presence of something he wanted but couldn’t have. It had only gotten worse since he’d laid a kiss on the guy. He felt guilty for the way he’d talked to Cas… and for the things he’d left unsaid in the aftermath. And despite his proclamation that he wasn’t gay and didn’t suck dick, he found himself continually fantasizing about exactly that.

He wanted Cas desperately and it was only getting worse as the summer dragged on. Cas didn’t seem to be as affected by their falling out as Dean was. It was frustrating having to watch Cas just move on with life like nothing had happened while Dean had to put so much effort into appearing indifferent. Plus, trying to steer clear of Cas on the farm was wearing on him. Since their falling out, Dean was back to feeling like he had in the beginning… like the effort of trying to dislike Cas was too much… that Cas’ constant presence in his life was making it more of a challenge than it needed to be.

As he drove the van over to practice that day, he was thinking about Cas. He couldn’t figure out why it was so unarguably hot to be punched. Watching Cas put Benny down had been a shot to the groin for Dean; but to feel the power behind Cas’ punch first-hand was a memorable (if painful) experience. He’d known he had it coming for saying what he’d said. He knew he deserved what he’d gotten and worse. And he respected Cas even more now – because he hadn’t hesitated to stand up for himself or to say what he felt.

But it was also strangely erotic to be put in his place by the object of his desire. He'd been almost proud to wear the welt that had taken over half of his face for the rest of that week. It was proof that what had happened between them was real. Proof that he’d done what he’d dreamt… that he’d put hands on what he wanted if only for a few minutes.

He couldn’t think of a logical reason why he’d spouted off afterwards the way he had. It didn’t make any sense to him. If those words had been said with any kind of forethought, they’d have been said differently and to the mirror. He’d have screamed at himself not to want those things – but it would’ve done no good.

Things were getting out of hand – he couldn’t even get it up for his girl anymore. That had been the most honest reason for breaking things off with Lisa. But it wasn’t the reason he’d focused on consciously. He told himself he was doing this for his own convenience – it would be easier to enjoy the summer if he weren’t tied down to anyone. But he didn’t have to dig too deep to uncover the name of someone he wouldn’t mind being tied down to. In fact, thoughts of that someone never left him. They lingered with him in his waking hours, making him desire Cas more and more by the day. They stayed with him as he slept too – keeping his dreams lurid and sexy, often leaving him hard and aching upon waking.

Now, as he pulled into the parking lot at the field across from the high school, he found a parking spot and forced himself to come out of his musings and get his head in the game. They practiced early like this to avoid the heat. But by the time they were finished they were always baking in it; it was 90 degrees before lunch most days. When practice was over, he hung out at Benny’s for most of the afternoon.

They were planning a huge party for Saturday after practice. It was mean to be a kegger at the quarry. They’d swim while the sun was up and then build bonfires after dark. Benny and some of their closer friends were planning to set up tents and camp out after. No need to worry about driving home – since Sunday was his morning to skip doing chores.

He mentioned it at dinner that night, just to be sure that he had his folk’s permission to take the van and not rush home in the morning – and to borrow the old canvas tent from the garage. He watched as Sam begged to be allowed to go. Dean could see his father looking at him for permission. If Dean had given his father the nod, John would’ve likely said yes. But he could tell without Dean actually confessing it that this was an affair to involve copious amounts of alcohol. Not a place for his younger brother. Sam was sweet. He’d be corrupted by his classmates in time. But for Dean’s part, it wouldn’t be him that taught his baby brother to drink and smoke and peel the panties off young girls. That needed to be someone else’s job. Silently from across the dinner table, John Winchester was agreeing with him when he sentenced Sammy to a Saturday night on the farm and a Sunday morning doing chores.

Dean’s eyes flicked to Cas – just for a heartbeat – wondering if Cas would be showing any interest in the campout. Dean wanted him there and didn’t at the same time. Since they weren’t technically speaking right now, the decision was easy. He’d enjoy the night with his friends and continue to try and get Cas out of his mind as much as possible.

What he hadn’t been expecting on Saturday was for his father to pull him aside before practice and ask if he’d be taking Cas along. Dean worked hard to not look too stunned at the question. After all, as far as the parents knew, things were just fine between the three boys. Or so he thought. He should’ve known better. John Winchester was no fool. He knew what was happening around him and Dean looked down at his shoes when John said, “What happened between you boys? You two scrappin' over a girl?”

“Something like that,” Dean had muttered.

“Well, maybe it’s time to get over it, huh? You two were both happier when you were getting along.”

Dean had been relieved when John walked away and left it at that. His father was a man of few words. But Dean was left thinking about it all day. He had been thinking about things with Cas a lot lately, but he didn’t realized he’d appeared unhappy. At least, not to the extent that his father might notice. But now that someone had pointed it out to him – he had been. He wasn’t just frustrated by their fall out. He was unhappy to his core. He missed Cas, he could see that now. He missed the boy’s company, his laugh, his smiles… all of it.

When he considered making amends with Cas, his body lit up in agreement with the thought. He found himself surprisingly amenable to using the words “I’m sorry” if brought Cas’ presence back into his life. The only problem was that now he needed to figure out what form he wanted that presence to take.

Should he seek to simply salvage their friendship? Or should he try for more? If he was to ask for more… how much more did he want? Dean had no question that he wanted more than friendship in the physical sense – but did he want to become a couple with Cas? Did he want to be boyfriends?

It was these questions and more that he was pondering as he lost to Sammy again and again in the living room. Eventually he chucked his controller down and said he needed a break. He grabbed a coke from the fridge and stepped outside, dropping down on the front porch which was seldom used. It was shaded from the hot sun and made a  nice place to sit and think. He settled on the steps and let himself really consider the questions that had been plaguing him. First of all, was he sorry for what he’d done? Yes. Without a doubt.

Was he interested in being friends with Cas again if Cas would have him? Absolutely.

Did he want to be more than friends? Yes.

Did he want to be boyfriends? Umm…. No. To think the word boyfriend brought a rush of negative thoughts to his mind. Most predominantly, the common thread of his negative thoughts stemmed from having people know. Having to tell his father that he was interested in a guy instead of a girl? Having to admit that the thought of sucking a dick was more tempting than sliding his cock into a girl? Having people make butt sex jokes about him behind his back? Losing his status as the guy everyone wanted to be? It was these things and many others that stood like a brick wall between he and Cas as boyfriends.

As his coke sat sweating his in hand, growing warmer by the minute, Dean realized that he had his answer. He wanted to be friends with Cas. But if they were ever to be more than friends… it would have to be a secret. He didn’t even need to ask Cas about it… he know the guy well enough already to know he’d never agree to that. It was one of the things he really loved about Cas. The kid would never allow himself to be shamed like that. He had strength in him that demanded Dean’s respect. So, the only real option was to be friends with Cas – and nothing more.

As he sat there – movement caught his attention. Looking up, he saw Cas walking around the corner from the machine shed. He must’ve been out in the silo smoking. He’d thought perhaps when Cas crossed the yard he’d see Dean on the porch and they could talk. But Cas didn’t come back towards the house. He was walking towards the cattle barn.

Instinctively, Dean knew where Cas was headed. The hayloft. He got to his feet and crossed the yard, abandoning his coke on the steps. The sun was hot on his back as he crossed the yard and if felt good to step into the barn. Some light filtered in through the windows, but it was mostly dark and shadowy in here. The floor was made of cement and though it was still warmer than the air-conditioned farmhouse, it was a comfortable temperature. He headed for the ladder and climbed up into the loft. He didn’t see Cas when he looked around so he began climbing up the bales until he was at the top.

Cas was at the back, near the window. He’d moved the bales around there – almost alike a little fort and it made Dean smile. Cas was leaning up against the wall of bales with his feet kicked up on a single bale as if it were a foot stool. He had something in his lap… like a tablet… and he appeared to be writing. With earbuds in, Cas hadn’t been tipped off to Dean's presence yet. He crawled along, only pausing when he arrived at the edge of Cas’ makeshift fort. Very gently he reached out and touched the toe of Cas’ shoe.

When Cas looked up and saw Dean there – several expressions crossed his face in a flash – first surprise – then anger.  The questioning one that lingered gave him hope.

He watched as Cas plucked one of his earbuds out and waited for Dean to speak. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position without pushing himself into the space Cas had clearly created for only himself. Once settled, leaning back on stacked bales, he was next to Cas with a comfortable two or three feet between them. He bent his knees and hooked his heels between two bales beneath him and rested his arms across his knees.

“I want to talk,” he said, not daring to look at Cas yet. In his peripheral vision, he saw Cas pluck the other earbud out. But the guy didn’t speak at all. So Dean continued, “I don’t know where to start,”

“How about you start with ‘I’m an asshole’,” muttered Cas.

“I’m an asshole,” Dean said. “I know I am.” Cas was still silent.

“C’mon Cas… this is your chance to be the bigger person,” Dean said teasingly – hoping that Cas would make this easy.

“What the fuck do you want Dean?” Cas asked him as he pulled the pad of paper to his chest and crossed his arms over it, “Someone like you wouldn’t be up here unless he wanted something.”

The accusation stung. But Dean couldn’t deny the truth of the words. If he were a decent person, he’d have never said what he’d said… or would’ve at least apologized after saying it. But Dean hadn’t. He wasn’t just here to apologize for hurting Cas. He was here because he wanted something. He wanted Cas. The question of whether he deserved Cas or not had never crossed his mind. But it did now. And he knew the answer immediately. No. He was not worthy.

But, on the heels of this revelation was the desire to be. In an instant he promised himself that he would be. He’d work at it.

“You’re right Cas. I want something. I want us to be friends again.”

“Your kind of friends I can do without.”

That was fair.

“Who sent you Dean? Your mom or your dad? Cause I know you’re not here of your own volition.”

“No one sent me,” he said as he finally looked at Cas, “but I guess Dad maybe gave me a nudge.”

Cas nodded and took a deep breath. Dean watched him gather his thoughts. He’d noticed that Cas did this sometimes. When there was something important to say, he’d take a minute and formulate it in his mind before he spoke out loud. He braced himself for what Cas would say, knowing it would be clear and well thought out, and likely very disparaging of Dean.

“I’m not interested in really being friends with you Dean. But, I think it would be easier for both of us… and Sam… if we could agree to be civil. Maybe not friends – but friendly. I can live with that if you can.”

Yep. That stung. But it was probably the best he’d get. And it was more than he deserved. He relaxed a little now that the big talk was over. “Okay Cas.” He sat quietly for a few minutes as Cas returned his attention to the notepad in his lap.

“What are you working on?” he asked as he turned towards Cas to look at his notepad.

Cas pulled the pad away from Dean. “This is the kind of thing I’d show a friend Dean.”

Ouch. He’d been dismissed from the hayloft and he knew it. He sighed as he began crawling out. He’d take what he could get. At least they were to be ‘friendly’ again. He didn’t have to avoid Sammy’s room anymore and he could stop trying _not_ to look at Cas like it was his job. He’d be free to nod to the guy in the hall when they passed now. It was a start.

The next few days went by fast. Dean had practice every morning and a game on Thursday night. He’d joined Sam and Cas in the garden one afternoon, helping pick green beans, peas and strawberries. Mary’s garden was the size of most people’s entire yard and she explained that she was getting too old to spend hours and hours bent over like that. So the three tucked in their earbuds and listened to music as they bent over shirtless in the hot sun and filled bucket after bucket with peas, beans and berries. She worked in the garden with them, using a hoe to chop out any weeds she saw and moving the buckets around as the boys filled them. She looked so silly under her giant hat. Dean grinned as he watched her work.

The following day they helped in the kitchen as Mary canned dozens of jars of green beans and made jam from some of the berries. Dean’s mouth watered as he chopped up berries and rhubarb for what he knew would become pies. Cas wasn’t giving him the full on silent treatment, but he wasn’t what anyone would consider friendly either.

So later that night, when the house was still and quiet, he grabbed his stuff from his cowboy boot and headed outside. But this time, when he paused at Cas’ door, he actually gave it a light knock. He heard Cas’ feet on the wood floor, and saw the doorknob turn. Cas’ rumpled hair and foggy eyes gave away that he’d been sleeping.

“Gonna burn one,” he whispered, “Wanna come?”

“No thanks,” he said curtly and Dean watched the door begin to shut. He put his palm to the door to stop it from closing. He didn’t look away from Cas even though his face was grumpy.

“Please?”

Dean bit his lip as he waited and watched Cas’ face soften a little. “Okay.”

They moved down the stairs quietly. When they passed the doorway to living room, Dean chuckled. John was asleep in the recliner and an infomercial was playing. They pushed into boots on the back porch and crossed the lawn, as they had many times before. When they ducked into the old silo and settled on the couch, Cas didn’t work to put a bunch of space between them and Dean appreciated it.

“It’s gonna take me a sec,” he said as he pulled out his bag, “I need to roll one.”

 

 

 

Cas nodded and pulled out his phone, shining the light for Dean as he crumbled up a few buds and sprinkled it into a plain rolling paper. When Dean put his pink tongue out to lick the edge of the paper and seal it, Cas had to look away.

“Here,” said Dean – handing the finished product to him, “Honors.”

Their fingers brushed when he took the lighter from Dean and it pissed him off. Never again would he be able to look at Dean or touch Dean and have the guy not know he wanted him... because when Dean had kissed him… Cas had kissed him back. Passionately.

If Cas had said no or pushed the guy away, he’d have some dignity now. If he’d said something along the lines of, “Hey man, I don’t think of you that way,” he’d be able to hold his head high now. But no. There was no way to play it off now. Not when he’d moaned into Dean’s mouth. Not when he’d wrapped arms around the dude’s neck like he was in a movie. Nope. No dignity. Ever again.

He lit the joint and inhaled, letting the feeling of contentment wash over him. After his second hit he began to feel his limbs relaxing and passed the smoke to Dean. Once he was high, Cas didn’t feel quite so ashamed of having Dean know his desires. After all, Dean must’ve had a few too or they wouldn’t have been kissing in the first place.

Cas pulled his phone back up and began looking for some music. He settled on a playlist and then let his phone go dark as the music started. The absence of moonlight kept the silo quite dark, the embers of the joint pulsing red whenever someone inhaled. Cas felt Dean slide a little closer and tried not to like it.

“What are we listening to?”

“Cake.”

“What song?”

“Mexico.”

“I like it.”

Dean was obviously trying to get Cas to talk. He didn’t want to be petty, but a part of him wanted to make Dean work for it. He knew he’d crumble eventually. If Dean wanted his friendship in any capacity he’d have it. Because on some level, Cas knew that he’d never be able to say no to Dean.

No one spoke for a bit and when Cas felt Dean slide closer again, he pulled his knees to his chest. It was a feeble move to protect himself. He made a silent promise that if Dean moved closer again, he’d move away. But he didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

Luckily, Dean didn’t push the boundary. When he extinguished the smoldering joint and it was dark again, Cas heard him whisper, “I’m sorry, man. Really. I am.”

There was something broken about the way he said it, and in a heartbeat he was forgiven. All pretense of self-protection left Cas and he answered honestly, “Me too.”

With that, they both stood. Dean swung low through the little door and Cas followed. When he laid down in bed that night, he felt good. Really good. For the first time in weeks.

Dean invited Cas to join him for the big party at the quarry but he declined, opting to stay home and hang out with Sam. He wanted to go and be where Dean was, but at the same time he had to acknowledge that it was best to avoid any situation where he may have to watch Dean go off to fuck someone.

He’d laid in bed and laughed into his pillow later that night when he’d heard thunder rumble low and vibrate the house. The sound of it was followed by a torrential downpour. It wasn’t long after that when headlights swept across the wall of his room through the window and he heard the van pull into the driveway. Shortly after, there were heavy footsteps on the stairs and the firm closing of a bedroom door.

The next day at lunch, Dean had told his laughing parents about the chaos at the quarry when a half dozen boys all took down their tents in the rain and ran home in the middle of the night.

“We’re gonna try again next week,” he told them.

“You have a game next Saturday night,” his mom had interjected.

“Week after,” he said absently.

“You get out to the garage today and air out that tent,” John told him firmly.

When he went to do it, Cas and Sam went with to help.

It took no time at all for their renewed friendship to start taking root. Dean joined Cas in the hayloft from time to time, like today when he’d wandered up there after practice. Often he’d just lay back and rest there while Cas read a book or drew in his sketch pad. Sometimes they’d talk. Dean looked incredible spread out in the hay and chewing on a long stalk absentmindedly. Cas had the inclination to draw him often and this time the temptation was great. But he couldn’t let himself do it. The fear of having someone look through his sketch book and find the picture was incentive enough to keep him working on pictures of other things that interested him instead.

He found that he loved drawing the tractors. And the fence… as well as the animals behind it. Sunlight pouring through the barn boards and the dusty glass of windows kept him busy for hours. These types of scenes were absent from the urban surroundings he was used to.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but sometimes when Dean would look at him he thought he saw something. A look of reverence. A look that suggested Cas may be special to him.

When family movie night rolled around again, the three boys sat together next to Mary with Cas in the middle holding the popcorn, Dean on one side and Sam on the other.

July fourth was fun too. There was a parade and fireworks in town. It had been laughable compared to the parades and fireworks Cas was used to seeing in Chicago, but to see them next to Dean was special. Cas had long ago abandoned the hope of squashing his crush on the boy who had spurned him. He was just trying to survive it the best he could. He knew there was no way that someone like Dean would give up his identity and publicly switch teams. But his friendship was a nice consolation prize. He watched stealthily from the corner of his eye as Dean’s face lit under the glow of the fireworks, eyes glassy green and sparkling. He couldn’t _be_ more enticing. The feel of the boys elbow, occasionally brushing his, kept his heart beating slightly faster than normal. His mere presence making the evening far more special than it had actually been.

Now, when he sat next to Sam at Dean’s ball games, he cheered whole-heartedly. He whistled and shouted when Dean got away with stealing bases and jumped from his seat as his friend crossed home plate.  Sam had a girl that he liked who came to these games and she started joining them on the bleachers. Her name was Ruby. It was so fun to watch her with Sam. He was so sweet and innocent and she was so obviously more experienced. Cas often smiled as he watched her delight in getting Sam all flustered. Mary didn’t seem to like her much, but she was ever-pleasant when Ruby made an appearance.

After the Friday game, Dean made his usual stop at the bleachers to greet his family and thank them for coming before he took off with his friends. Cas watched him go and was surprised when he turned back to the family and looked at Cas. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.” He’d given Mary a quick hug and hopped down from the bleachers, giving Sam and Ruby a wave as he turned to follow Dean. He climbed into the cab of Benny’s truck and was greeted warmly.

“Long time, no see brother,” said Benny as he put the rusty truck in reverse, “Ya look different without the…” Cas laughed as Benny gestured to his face – noticing the lack of make-up. It hadn’t been a conscious thing to stop wearing it. He just became less and less inclined to put on eyeliner while living here. It was probably because he was sweating so much. Or perhaps it just seemed silly to put on eyeliner and then go sit in a hayloft. Regardless, he’d been without make-up for a while now. So long, that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d worn it.

Cas grinned at Benny while Dean leaned forward to put on some music. “Where are we going?” Cas asked them.

“Pizza,” said Benny as they made a right out of the lot and onto the main road in town. It was only a few blocks before they were turning into another parking lot. The three hopped out of the truck, lit up by headlights as more vehicles began pulling in behind them. The lot was chaotic as most of the baseball team arrived with other friends in tow. Cas chuckled as he watched the wait staff scramble to figure out how to serve the rush that was coming in.

Cas found himself seated next to Dean who was receiving constant attention. Girls flirted with him and guys stepped up to talk to him about the game and tomorrows party. The poor waitress looked she’d been hit by a train as she tried to collect the drink order from their table while kids moved back and forth between several tables in her section.

It took a long time to get food and the group was rowdy. But Cas found himself laughing freely at Dean’s antics with his friends, joining in as he felt inspired to, and even making jokes as if these were his real friends. When the crowd started to dwindle, the group argued playfully over the bill and managed to drop a few bucks on the table for a tip.

Despite his efforts to save for California, Cas stepped back to the table when it had cleared and dropped a $20 down when no one was looking. For the mess alone, the waitress deserved it.

He sat in the cab of Benny’s truck next to Dean as they made a few loops around town – windows down and waving at their friends before heading to Benny’s house. Cas kept his eyes down when they walked through, not wanting to appear as surprised as he was. It was dilapidated and small – and crowded with lots of people. There was a group of men playing cards in the kitchen. They were using kernels of dried corn as currency for bets in whatever game they were playing and cigar smoke hung over the room.

Cas followed the along behind the boys as they cut through the bodies and pushed towards the back of the house and into Benny’s room. They settled in, Benny on the bed and Dean in the only chair. Cas sat on the floor between them, leaning up against Benny’s bed. They listened to music and smoked a joint while talking about the game… about going away to college… about the scholarship Benny had received to go play football in Louisiana… and about Dean’s break up with Lisa which Cas hadn’t really known about until tonight.

He watched Dean tell Benny he was “gonna be a free agent” when he went off to school. When his eyes fell to Cas, there was a question there. He’d have to be blind not to see it.

Later, when they were dropped off at home, they raided the fridge again. Dean carried a plastic container of cold fried-chicken in one hand and a pie tin in the other. Cas grabbed sodas and spoons as he followed behind. Dean crawled up on his bed, pushing the pillows back and leaning over to flick on this lamp.

“Can ya get the door?” he asked as he pulled the lid off the chicken.

Cas nodded and clicked it shut before he settled at the foot of the bed cross-legged and passed Dean a soda and a spoon. The talked in soft voices as they satisfied their munchies and Dean asked him again what he was saving his money for. Cas opened his mouth to say “a car” but Dean caught him.

“Don’t lie, Cas. What are you really saving for?”

“That’s something I would tell a friend Dean,” said Cas. He hadn’t mean to hurt Dean but the look in his friend’s face revealed that he had.

“Thought I was,” he said softly as he set down his piece of chicken, “Aren’t we…” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “…friends? I feel like we are.”

“I guess we are,” he said – not sure if he meant it or not. He’d never lost sight of how easily Dean could hurt him. That was his biggest hang-up about using the word ‘friend’. Aside from his fear, he had no reason to turn away the guy’s friendship. He was honest and loyal and cared deeply for his family. Cas had witnessed it again and again. Dean had issues, no lie. But he was good-hearted at his core.

“Well then, c’mon and tell me,” encouraged Dean.

“I’m saving for a trip to California.”

“Awesome!” enthused Dean, “When? Like before you start college?”

“Not exactly. I was thinking…” stumbled Cas, “… more like _instead_ of college.”

“What?” Dean looked dumbfounded. “Why?”

“It’s what I want. I want to live there. I want to start a life there. I don’t want to go to school in Chicago. I don’t want my dad dropping by my place all the time and questioning all my choices. I want to just be… free.”

Dean was looking at Cas very intently and he found it difficult to decipher what Dean was thinking. He watched the boy set aside his coke can and his bowl of chicken. Dean stood then, and took Cas’ soda away from him too.

When he sat back down he was dangerously close. Cas was frozen there – unable think as he watched Dean lean in and close the space between them.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered huskily with his face too close and still moving closer, “I know you don't trust me and that it's my fault. And I know that you might not want me to do this, but… but I can’t help it.” Cas could feel Dean’s breath on his cheek as he pleaded, “please Cas… please let me,” soft lips brushed against his and Dean’s fingers curled into his t-shirt and gripped tightly. Cas couldn’t have fought it if he wanted to – so pleading was Deans voice. He didn’t pull away. He let Dean touch their lips together, closing his eyes.

Against his lips, Cas felt Dean’s moving. Forming words. Another whisper with lips rubbing together as he spoke… “C’mon Cas. We both know we want this… C’mon, please kiss me Cas… I’m fucking begging you” Dean implored as he began peppering soft kisses around Cas’ mouth, nose, chin. “I never beg… only you… it’s only for you. Please, Cas.”

Cas couldn’t hold back against that. Who the fuck could?

Weeks’ worth of pent up desire simmered up inside of him as he surrendered and put his hands on Dean. Strong arms clenched around each other and fingers scrambled up under shirts. Legs shuffled around, searching for a way to tangle and bring their bodies flush. Dean wound up on the bottom, pulling Cas on top. This time it was Dean who locked arms around a neck and it was Cas who pushed away, if only for a moment so he could pull his shirt off over head and chuck it. Dean reached out gingerly and placed his warm palm on Cas’ chest. They froze that way for the beat of a heart and Dean said softly, “Someone’s going to hear us.”

Cas leaned back down and kissed the bolt of Dean’s jaw, dragging his tongue upwards towards his earlobe and whispered, “Hayloft.”

Cas’s blood was pumping heavily in his veins as he got to his feet with Dean. Face to face in the lamplight, Dean leaned in slowly and opened Cas into a sensual and heavenly kiss. They embraced, chest to chest, and Cas felt Dean’s hands come to rest at his waist. When they pulled apart, they did it slowly.

Smiling warmly, Dean grabbed his pillow and followed Cas when he turned to leave. It was a long walk to the hayloft. When they’d crawled into Cas’ little space towards the back, Dean laid down the pillow and wordlessly guided Cas to rest his head on it. Then, with his heart hammering in his chest, Cas rearranged his limbs and watched silently as Dean sank down on top of him. The fear of being hurt slipped from his mind with all the other rational thoughts, as the weight of Dean Winchester came to rest heavily over his body. With cricket song in his ears and the thick scent of fresh hay tickling his nose, Cas let go. He let it happen. 


	7. Understanding Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Ravenwolf36 for her editing and feedback!

Cas had that look in his eyes again. That hopeful look. He knew he was lucky to be given this gift of another chance with Cas. He kept his eyes locked on the vibrant blue ones beneath him as he shifted his hips to slide between Cas’s legs. There was a heavy drag of denim when their jeans rubbed together and even through two pairs of pants he could feel the hardness between Cas’ legs. It sent a shiver up his spine and he bit his lip to keep quiet as he rocked his weight from side to side until both of their packages were comfortably pressed up next to each other.

No fantasy that he’s ever nurtured even came close to the feeling of actually laying down with Cas. As their bare chests came together, Dean tore his eyes from Cas’s gaze to watch the guy's perfect lips. They parted for him as he leaned in and the two boys came together softly, sinking into one another. From below there was an occasional stirring from the animals. There was also the soft rustle of hay shifting under them as they began exploring with fingertips and tongues in the musty dark of the hayloft.

Dean rolled to the side, surrendering his position on top in exchange for the pleasure of having his hands free to touch the body that Cas was giving over to him. He cupped his boy behind the ear and let his fingers slide through thick, soft hair. Bringing his fingertips down Cas’ neck slowly, he felt the thick muscles of his friends shoulders which then give way to the sharp cut of clavicle bone as he explored. Finally, the pads of his fingers bumbled onto the firm shape a male breast. His body's intense reaction surprised him and Dean was stunned by how erotic it was. He'd thought a lot about dicks in his life and about Cas's dick in particular. He'd not really been preoccupied by thoughts of male breasts before, but he probably would be now that he'd put his hand to one like this. Feeling the nub pass under his palms sent a shiver up his spine and set his stomach spinning with delight.

Cas let out a soft moan as Dean played with his nipple and the sound of it reverberated in his groin – it was sinful and delicious and he wanted to hear it again. His lips traveled south, over chin, down the neck and shoulder, and over taut skin until he finally found the hard numb of flesh with his tongue. Cas's body bucked beneath him as he sucked that nipple into his mouth and his own dick grew impossibly harder as he latched on hungrily. Cas’s hands clamp down on the back of Dean's neck and his body arches up from the bottom, a soft whisper of “Yes…” slipping into the night. Dean smiles around the flesh in his mouth, feeling both sensual and joyful. 

One of Cas’s hands came to rest on Dean’s hip and Dean found his top leg sandwiched between Cas's. Still, he yearned to be closer. He felt the urge to thrust even though he wasn't sheathed in anything and he couldn’t resist the impulse. He moved his hand around to cup his friend’s ass and clenched the boy to him so he could roll hips forward and push his cock into Cas. Unexpectedly, this motion pulls from Cas the most brazenly carnal noise Dean’s ever heard.

“Fuck, Cas,” he curses as he holds the boy tight to repeat the motion. He pulled back minutely, just enough to wiggle his hand in between them, unable to tolerate any distance between their bodies as he worked feverishly to unbutton and unzip both of them. His anxious fingers dug into the warm, bunched up cotton and searched for flesh. He inhaled sharply when he found it too – unaccustomed to getting a hot handful of dick and thus unaware of how overwhelmingly erotic it would really be to hold one that wasn’t his own.

Swelling with lust, Dean got to his knees, straddling Cas, and used both hands. His attention was fully focused on the opening at the zipper where he jerked roughly, the need to free Cas’s cock having grown urgent. He finally had to give up and dismount Cas so he could shove the boy’s jeans and underwear roughly down to his thighs. As soon as Cas is free, Dean had his hand on that dick again. It barely registered that Cas’s insistent hands are on his own jeans too and that Cas is working to free him as well. 

As they fumble around in the loose hay, Dean’s attention is only on Cas’ manhood. He watches in the dim to see his fingers wrapping around a thickened shaft. He loved the feel of it filling his fist and his mouth watered wanting to suck it. Unable to hold back, he scrambled to get his knees under him so that he could bend over Cas at the right angle. Taking a deep breath, he then plunged forward to take a real cock into his mouth. Not a fantasy. Not a dream. A real dick. Cas's dick.

Dean was lost to the world as he tasted his first. His eyes fell shut and his blood was roaring in his ears. His mouth his open wide, lips curled around his teeth, hard shaft gliding over his tongue and the wide crown pushing all the way to the back. He'd never had so much in his mouth and still, all he could think was more... more, more, more. He shoved himself down until he gagged, stunned at how lascivious the feeling was. Oh shit. He really liked it... the gagging. He did it again and felt his body start to buzz, warmth pooling in his groin. When saliva started to build in his mouth and leak out the side, Dean backed off enough to swallow and then began licking around the tip. He let his tongue explore, rolling it around the crown, gliding down the side all the way to the base. Thick bush tickled his nose and chin, and the scent that clung between Cas's legs made him even more lustful. He groaned as he felt Castiel's fingers scraping at his scalp, seemingly trying in vein to grasp fistfuls of hair that was way too short.

Dean could feel his own dick swelling larger between his legs as he worked, on his knees and bent over Cas who was sprawled beneath him. When Dean resumed bobbing on his friends dick, he tightened his mouth around the boys shaft in the hopes of bringing even more pleasure. He could feel his teeth cutting into the soft tissue as he shielded that beautiful cock from them. Cas's hand was growing heavier on the back of his head, pressing gently down and encouraging Dean to take more of him with each repitition. 

Dean loved being encouraged deeper. It wasn’t rational, but it was so kinky and overtly sexual that his body responded without his brain having to think it. In response he worked harder and pressed deeper, faster. He pushed himself so far that he gagged. Dean was stunned that even retching on a cock didn't turn him off. In fact, it was a shot of heat to his groin and it projected filthy fantasies to the forefront of his mind. Images danced behind his eyelids and teased him with every dirty thought he’d had about Cas since day one. Spurred on by this, he scrambled for a better angle; brought his elbow down into the hay to form a tripod so he’d be able to get his free hand between Cas’ legs and tease his balls.

Dean knew he was getting sloppy as he divided his attention between the movements of his mouth and his hand but he didn't care. His mouth was full of Cas’ drippings mixed with his own spit and his body rejected the act of swallowing it without pulling off. Every time he tried, he’d gag a little. Then, with every gag, his dick would grow fatter – throb harder. He didn’t even notice he’d been arching his back and preening his ass into the air until he felt Cas run his hand swiftly down his back to trace the line of it, shoving roughly down into the back of his jeans.

He knew they were undone and loose, but hadn’t thought at all about it until he felt a hot hand forcing its way into the small space – fingers teasing at what they could reach and wiggling their way in. He could feel spit dripping from his chin and he knew he’d been moaning over the Cas’ cock but he couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed. His body was thrilling with every sensation. He’d known he wanted to be had by men. He just hadn’t realized how strong that need was until he indulged it a little. He’d given his body an inch when he’d laid down in the hay with Cas and his body had taken a mile. It wanted more and more and more. It would never get enough.

Without even considering the consequences of his wanton actions, Dean found himself wriggling his hips – helping Cas’ exploritory hand move deeper. When the first finger managed to wriggle down into his ass crack… he came hard and fast. He filled his underwear and cried out around his lover’s dick.

Dean kept going, even after he came, he couldn’t stop. He tightened his lips around Cas and pulled back slow – sucking as hard as he could and when he got to the tip he held on - suckling there like an infant at breast. When he felt Cas tense again, body going rigid under him, he knew the boy was going to come. Then, belatedly, he remembered where all that cum was going to go. When the first shot flooded his mouth he tried to swallow… but he failed. He wound up gagging and retching, this time pulling away. A mess of spunk rolled down his chin as he backed away and fought his gag reflex. When another pulse of jizz followed the first, it streaked across his face as he battled to try and swallow. It wasn't possible. The foul taste and feel of slimy, skunky, saltiness covered his tongue, teeth, gums… it was everywhere and the scent filled his nose too. He needed to rinse or he may puke.

Cas was half sitting up now and Dean was aware that his friend was speaking to him but it took a moment for the words to actually sink in…

“Here, Dean, Here,” he was saying. He felt something soft and warm on his face and realized it was Cas cleaning him off. He willed his eyes to open, suddenly realizing how out-of-control he’d really been. He’d been so caught up in the moment. As he slowly came back to reality, he was able to take his t-shirt back from Cas and finish the clean-up job himself. He spat into it too – scrubbing his tongue on it and working to clear his mouth of the revolting taste of cum.

Belatedly, Dean noticed Cas’ fingers sliding down the front of his sagging jeans. He was probably thinking that some reciprocation would help take Dean’s mind off of his coughing and gagging and spitting. Dean’s eyes snapped to meet Cas’ as he felt the boy freeze.

“Um, yeah,” muttered Dean, referring to the mess he’d made in his underwear, “that… happened.” 

He was beginning to come down from the high now. Cas was pulling him down, and Dean went willingly, suddenly exhausted. Soon he was encircled in Castiel's arms, one hand stroking softly on the back of his neck as Cas whispered reassurances in his ear. Dean loved the sound of Cas’ voice like this… whisper soft and so close that breath tickled the side of his face. He let himself rest his head on Cas’ bicep, his own arm wrapped around the boys waist and his leg tangled between his friend’s.

His jeans were riding a bit low, still hanging open, as his own spend cooled and dried around his dick which had gone limp now. Cas’ jeans were still down around his knees. From his vantage, perched on Cas’ arm, he was watching the boy’s bare chest rise and fall in the half-light. He let out a long exhale and watched Cas do the same.

As the fire of his passion simmered down, Dean felt questions start to rise up in place of it. He tamped down the urge to ask Cas to keep this secret. He knew Cas well enough to know that he wasn’t the type to be vocal about what they’d done. After all, it’s not like Cas had told either him or Sammy about Cole.

When Cole crossed his mind – Dean sat up straight and put his face in his hands. “Oh fuck!” he cursed out loud, “Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Dean?” Cas him, “What is it?”

“Oh fuck, Cas. I just realized…” his voice trailed off. How did he explain this to Cas?

This was his first experience with a guy. He’d had nothing to compare it to. For him – this was the best it had ever been with anyone. Ever. Everything was new. Every touch was exciting. Every noise and every feeling. The sight of another man’s dick in his hand, the feel of a man’s hand on the small of his back and the swell of his ass. Having it be a man that curled up with him after. All new.

But it wasn’t so… not for Cas. For Cas, Dean was just another lay... much like Lisa had been for Dean. Cas probably had lots of lovers in Chicago. After all… he’s hot. It had only taken the kid a few hours to find someone to suck his dick here… in farm country. Dean’s jaw dropped open as he realized that whether he’d meant to or not – Cas had likely compared Dean to Cole. His friend Cole. The one he’d known since pee-wee league. Ugh.

“Dean?” prompted Cas again, “What is it?”

“I’m just… I’m just so…” Dean was still hiding his face behind his hands when he admitted, “I’m so _embarrassed_.”

“What for?” chuckled Cas, “That was fucking amazing. You know it was. Why would you be embarrassed of that? Be embarrassed for that ridiculous t-shirt you wear that has an ear of corn on it.” Cas was laughing but Dean was not encouraged.

“Cas… you’ve been with… friends of mine. Ugh.”

“One friend, Dean. And I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“I can’t stand…” Dean didn't like knowing that he and Cole had both sucked Cas off. But he couldn't think of a way to explain it to Cas without sounding like he was seeking reassurance. Finally, unable to find a better way to say it, he simply admitted, “I don’t like being compared to Cole.”

“Why the fuck would I compare you to Cole?”

“Because… we both…” he chuckled, still flustered, “ya know?”

Cas didn’t know what to make of Dean. He was so adorable with a furious blush coloring his cheeks and his hands seeking to hide his awkwardness by covering his face. He hadn’t thought of Cole at all. Why had Dean? How much did Dean know?

He laid back down on the pillow, straw itching his back, and pulled Dean down with him. Dean came, curling up with him again, but still seeming apprehensive. It was silent for a while, Cas just waiting for Dean to clear his head and deliver an articulate thought.

“Cas,” he finally whispered, “This was a big deal for me.”

“I know. Me too, but for different reasons.”

“Tell me yours?”

“You tell me one of yours and I’ll tell you one of mine.”

It was surprisingly easy to be honest with Cas when they were like this, alone together and still lingering in an afterglow. “I just sucked off a dude.”

“Yeah, you did.” he laughed, “and it was awesome,” said Cas. Then he went on to say, “For me this is a big deal because you’re so unaccepting of yourself. You hate that you’re gay. It makes me feel like you’ll hate me… and anything we do together because of it.”

Dean hadn’t thought of it that way at all. But as he let it sink in, he realized that he wasn’t the only one with some insecurities. He wasn’t the only one who was vulnerable. He wasn’t the only one who had reasons to fear the other.

“I don’t like being compared to Cole," he said again, bluntly and honestly without even thinking; reciprocating honesty with honesty.

“There’s no comparison Dean.”

Dean smiled, feeling the warmth of his friend’s words. They were truthful, he could tell. “Give me another reason this was a big deal for you.”

“Okay Dean, this is a big deal for me because I have a hunch you’re going to regret it. In fact, as soon as you came I started bracing myself for you to freak out and say something nasty to me… leave me out here to feel like shit.”

Dean wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. He had done that exact thing to Cas before. The guy was right to worry.

“Well, we’ve already established that I’m the asshole,” he laughed, trying for levity, “so I can see why you’d say that. But if I ever hurt you again, it will be an accident. I can promise you that.”

Cas was running his fingertip up and down his arm from shoulder to elbow as they laid there. It was a very reassuring touch. “I can’t believe I’m just laying here – letting you cuddle me like a girl.”

“Don’t say it like that Dean,” said Cas softly, “neither of us is a girl, and us being comfortable together is nice. You don’t want me comparing you to Cole. So please don’t compare me to Lisa… or anyone before her, ok?”

“Okay Cas," he answered, his chest warming with affection. "You know," he added, "I really like the way you talk to me.”

Cas gave a soft chuckle and responded by squeezing Dean a little tighter and saying, “I really like the way kiss me."

Dean pushed up, gave a soft kiss to the side of Cas’ face. Then he whispered, “Do you have anymore? Anymore reasons why it’s a big deal with me?”

“Yeah – one more.”

“Lay it on me.”

“You first.”

“Okay Cas,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’m afraid of how things are going to be for me now. I’m never gonna wanna fuck a chick again. I’m never gonna to be able to tell myself that I’m straight again. This is gonna change my whole fucking life, and I’m not ready. I’m sorry, I really am. I want to tell you that I’m ready to come out and that we can be boyfriends. But if I’m honest – I have to tell you that I’m not. I’m just not.”

“It’s okay Dean. I already knew that. I’m not going to ask you for anything. You take your time on this and do what you need to do. No matter what happens… we’ll still be friends okay?”

Dean tightened his grip on Cas as he let the words wash over him. It was sweet relief. It made him feel all the more gone on the kid too. He was going to fall in love with Cas. That was clear already, even if nothing else was.

“I told you mine… tell me yours,” he said softly.

“That one was mine too. I know we are going to have to be secret. And it’s not going to be easy living in the same house and hiding this. It’s not. I’m worried about it.”

“Me too.”

They held each other for as long as they could before they became uncomfortable. Dean had a crotch full of sticky, drying jizz. And, as their sweaty bodies cooled, their skin was growing sticky. Their bed of hay was itchy and quickly becoming unbearable. It was time to go in. They stood up, zipped up, and crawled down from their little fort.

At the bottom of the ladder Dean pulled Cas close to him and kissed him deeply. Cas wound his arms around Dean and lost himself in it. When they pulled apart, Dean walked with him hand-in-hand until he had to open the barn door to let them out.

The next morning was Sam’s morning off. It was just the two of them in the cattle barn for chores. It wasn’t awkward at all. They had worked together many times like this – sometimes they’d hated each other and sometimes they’d been friends. Sometimes they’d been pining for each other and now, they were lovers. Secret lovers. They may have exchanged the occasional look; but aside from that, there was nothing different about doing chores.

Dean watched Cas inhale his mother’s egg salad at lunch and then laughed his ass off and ribbed his friend mercilessly all afternoon with Sam as the kid pooted rotten-egg farts because of it. The three of them played video games together until it was time for Dean to leave for his ball game.

From the stands that night, Cas cheered for Dean like always. And, he had a great time with Sam, teasing him mercilessly about Ruby all evening. He laughed himself to a belly ache as he watched her work Sam over and then he gave Sam shit about it behind her back and during the ride home. John and Mary were tuning them out anyway, deep in discussion about something relating to farm equipment.

Cas watched John and Mary glance at each other suspiciously when Dean came home after the game rather than going out with his friends. But they said nothing. Dean came up to Sam’s room and the three of them picked up where they’d left off earlier – playing video games until after midnight. Tomorrow was Dean’s day to sleep in but Cas and Sam had to be up at 5am. So when Sam started to yawn, Cas got up and said he was heading for bed.

When he’d finished brushing his teeth and was walking back to his room, he met Dean in the hall. Knowing they were alone, they slowed and smiled at each other in passing, both running a hand along the other’s flank as they slid past one another.

Cas curled into bed that night, perfectly content. Happier than he’d ever been. He’d just begun drifting off to sleep when there was a soft knock at his door. He padded over, opened it and saw Dean’s mischievous grin.

“Gonna go burn one, wanna come?”

“Yep.”

They crossed the yard together and ducked into the silo, sliding up onto the cement couch together. It was the first time they’d been out here since their tryst and Cas loved the way Dean just pushed up next to him, thigh’s touching.

“Gotta roll again. Shine the light?”

“Sure,” said Cas – holding out his phone to illuminate Deans hands while he prepared a joint for them. When it was finished he pulled up a playlist and set his phone aside, taking the joint when it was handed to him. “Thanks. I’m out.”

“You’re out?”

“Yep. You didn’t think I came down here just to get some did ya?” laughed Cas, “I’ve been out for days!”

“Well, let me roll ya a couple to tide you over til we get some more.”

Cas picked up his phone again and held the light while Dean went back to work. He inhaled and then held the joint for Dean while he inhaled, since his hands were busy rolling.

“Is this punk music Cas?”

“Um, I guess so. I mean… there’s lots of different kinds of punk. I think of this more as alternative rock than punk, but this is one of my favorite bands.”

“Who is it?”

“Silversun Pickups.”

“What’s the song?”

“Substitution.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks. I like them for smoking music… kind of like you play Floyd.”

“Who else do you like?” Dean asked him, “Give me something new to put on my playlist.”

“You might like Mixtapes. Give me your phone.”

Dean handed over his phone and Cas went to work, “Here, I’m putting a song on here for ya. It’s called Bad Parts. The chick, Maura, she fuckin’ wails guitar. They’re awesome. See if you like it. I’m putting some Silversun on here too.”

“Which playlist are you adding to?” asked Dean peering over his friend’s shoulder.

“Added a new one. It’s got my name on it.”

As he handed Dean back his phone he laughed and dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder, “Don’t worry. If anyone looks at it – they’ll never know I put it in there for you.”

Dean glanced down at his phone and laughed out loud at the title to the new playlist. ‘Cas’ shitty punk ass music.’

Dean leaned back against the cool cement wall of the silo. He loved having Cas’ head resting on his shoulder. They passed the smoke back and forth a few more times before leaving. No one spoke as they walked around the corner of the machine shed, but when Dean looked at him with an unspoken question in his eyes, Cas nodded. They changed course then, heading for the hayloft. There was no pillow this time, ill thought out as this venture was. But Dean played the new playlist as they slipped down into the hay together.

Dean let Cas guide him this time, working them both out of their soft sleep pants easily and bringing them together in a seated position, chest to chest, with Cas’ legs sprawled out over Deans. They made out as they touched each other and themselves… teasing lightly and occasionally breaking their kisses to look down at the tantalizing display of hard cocks being stroked between their bodies.

Dean loved seeing his junk so close to Cas’. His greedy eyes gulped down the look of his friend's cock. He watched the head disappear into Cas’ fist and then reappear again and again as he stroked himself. Soon, there were four hands working and not two. As they got more worked up, they pulled tighter together, each pulling a hand away from their dicks to wrap around the others waist and cling tightly as they worked each other’s thickness and breathed each other’s air while the effervescent sounds of heavily distorted guitar chords played on in the background.

Breathing got heavy and heads dropped forward to watch as they both approached their end and when Dean saw Cas’ tip erupt he came too – so erotically charged was the sight. He watched Cas roll his thumb over Dean’s tip and then bring it to his mouth to taste it. It was so incredibly seductive that the sight of it worked its way into his steamy dreams that night – and replayed itself for him again as he jerked off in the shower the next morning too.

The days of summer were at their peak now… long and hot. And for the first time ever, Dean thought they were perfect. Each new day was filled with excitement as he got to know his friend in a whole new way. Walls came down that he’d spent years building. Cas was ever inquisitive about his life and his thoughts and his dreams and the things that motivated him. He’d never had anyone know him like this before – and be so accepting of every part of him.

The more time he spent with Cas the more he learned about him too. He listened as Cas told him all about the wonders that he hoped to see and enjoy in California and the best parts of the books he’d read and the films he’d loved. Cas’ perspective on everything was unique and enlightening. His sketch book was filled with incredible pictures. He’d never even known the kid was an artist. But once he’d gotten a look at that his work he’d seen immediately that Cas had talent. The dude could take the most mundane thing… a window sill… an old rusty car… a stalk of bent over corn… and somehow make it beautiful and intriguing to look at. It was just one more thing that was amazing about Cas.

The days were going by… they did their chores and hung out with Sam. Dean went to ball practices and games and the family came to watch. Dean wasn’t missing any parties either. He took Cas with him everywhere he went. He knew his parents thought they’d become best friends. And they weren’t wrong… Cas was his best friend now. Cas new things about Dean that Benny would never know. And not even just the sexy secrets either. Dean told Cas everything.

Benny seemed to notice that he and Cas had gotten tight, but he didn’t seem to suspect anything. Dean felt like things couldn’t be any better. He didn’t even cringe when his father announced at the dinner table, “I got ahold of the bean bar… we’re starting tomorrow.”

Dean watched Cas as his eyes swung to him with the question. He didn’t even wait for Cas to ask it, just explained. “The bean fields have to be cleared of weeds or we have all kinds of problems at harvest time. And, the elevator gives less payment per bushel for beans that have foreign matter in them.”

Cas nodded and Dean continued, “The bean bar is attached at the front of a tractor and it’s got seats welded to it. We’ll all sit on it and Dad will drive us over the field. As we see weeds, we’ll spray them with weed killer. Its easy work but the days are long and hot.”

Sam nodded at the explanation and they all went on with their meal. After dinner, John leaned up against the sink next to Mary and picked up a towel. “I’ll be damned,” he chuckled to his wife.

“I know,” smiled Mary, “I think Cas is turning out to be a good influence on Dean. He’s becoming more articulate.  Did you notice he said ‘foreign matter’ instead of ‘gunk’? I’ve been noticing his vocabulary growing…”

“Well, I gotta say, I never saw that comin,” John said with a grin, shaking his head as he reached for the wet plate she was holding out for him.

“Me either,” she chuckled, “and after the movie last week… he said he really loved the way light was used. That’s not something Dean would normally notice. I think Cas’ artistic eye might be rubbing off on him too.”

“Huh,” mumbled John as he put away the plate he’d dried and reached for another.

“Have you seen the drawings in Cas’ sketchbook?” she asked him.

“Nope. He guards that thing like it’s a damn diary.”

“He let me look a few days ago. The boy is talented. I wonder if Deacon even knows… the way he hides it… I think it’s possible he doesn’t.”

Around the corner, in the stair well, Dean was leaning on the railing and listening to his parents. Mostly, he’d just been waiting around to see if his folks would discuss how much they’d be paying the boys for bean riding this year. Hearing them speak highly of Cas was unexpected and he caught himself smiling as he listened to his mother say that Cas was talented. Dean thought so too, but it was good to hear an adult reaffirm his opinion. And he hadn’t noticed himself changing any under Cas’ influence… but if his mom was noticing changes that she thought were positive he wasn’t going to argue. No one had ever accused him of being articulate before. He found himself moving quietly up the stairs and enjoying a sense of pride – not even wondering about money anymore.

Later that evening, as the family lounged comfortably in the living room watching TV, Mary brought everyone a slice of pie fresh from the oven. Dean had been smelling it for a while now as it baked and his mouth was watering for it. He glanced at Cas occasionally as they all tucked in sweet and tangy strawberry-rhubarb pie. Cas always ate as if _every_ dish Mary cooked was something to treasure and Dean loved watching it… loved the way he licked his lips before AND after each bite.  

And occasionally, if their eyes met, Dean would lick his lips too - for no other reason than to let Cas see him do it.

.  



	8. California Dreamin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Ravenwolf36 for the editing and chapter title! :)

Dean had been right. Riding beans was a long day. They’d been up at 5am for chores as usual. They’d finished around 9:00 and that’s when Cas had met Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle and her daughter Jo. Bobby was introduced to Cas as family but Dean had later explained that in reality John and Bobby were just very close friends. They shared farm equipment and would take care of each other’s livestock if either needed to be out of town for any reason. Cas was soon able to gather that the Singer/Harvelle brood would be joining them on the bean bar to complete the application of herbicides to the Winchester fields and then the Winchester gang would move to the Singer farm to do the same work on the crops of their friends; essentially they were joining forces to get the work done at both locations.

Bobby was a widower and Ellen was a widow. Apparently they were living together at Bobby’s farm and when Ellen had moved in, she’d brought her daughter Jo with her. Dean explained that Bobby and Ellen were good for each other but had some undisclosed reason for not wanting to actually marry. Though Bobby’s place wasn’t far, it was on the other side of the county line. So Jo had gone to a different school than Dean. She was graduated now, and was currently deciding if she wanted to go to school in the fall or not.

Cas immediately picked up tension between mother and daughter regarding the issue. It was obvious that Jo had no interest in school and would prefer to stay local and become a farm wife like her mother and Mary. Cas could understand wanting to emulate these women because they were both very strong. Being the mother, cook and support system for their husbands didn’t diminish them at all… they were strong enough and confident enough in themselves and their value to those around them– not to feel inferior while fulfilling the roles of a farmer’s wife. But to be around Ellen and Jo for even a few minutes was to understand that turmoil was a constant presence in their relationship despite their obvious bond.

Cas stood back and watched Bobby and John getting the equipment set up. It looked very much like Dean had described. There was a large steel bar that looked to be about 20 feet long. It was hooked to the front of a tractor and there were seats welded to it, spread evenly apart. There was a huge reservoir of herbicide attached to the tractor at the center of the bar and hoses ran from the tank to a series of wands.

John and Bobby were moving about, checking things and barking to each other as they prepped for the work to be done. It didn’t take long for them to start herding everyone into their seats. Cas followed along behind Sam and watched as Jo worked to position herself in the seat next to Dean. It was becoming clear that Jo had a preference for the elder Winchester. Cas couldn’t bring himself to dislike her though. She was scrappy and fun. Also, he could tell by Dean’s demeanor that he had no need to fear Jo as competition for Dean’s affections.

Cas pulled himself up into the empty seat between Sam and Ellen. The bar they were seated on was positioned about five feet off the ground and each seat had a seatbelt. Ellen gave Cas the fisheye until she saw him buckle it. Bobby came along and put a wand in each person’s hand before climbing up onto a seat himself.

The ride out to the field was fun... John was speeding along at what Cas assumed was top speed for the tractor and the bar dipped and swayed unexpectedly as flew down the lane and turned down into a field-access road. Cas found himself smiling.

The pattern they followed was much like lawn mowing or hay baling. They started at one end of the field and drove up and down the rows – working their way slowly to the opposite end of the field. Each person’s seat hovered over a row of soybean plants. Cas soon found that each person watched their row and the two rows on either side of theirs. When there was a weed in their section they’d use their wand to spray it.

Ellen explained that the spray was a very powerful chemical that would kill anything it landed on. So, the name of the game is to hit only the weeds and not the beans. Also, don’t waste the product because it’s extremely expensive. She explained to Cas that most farmers don’t bother with riding beans anymore. They simply purchase a chemical that’s safe for beans and then douse the entire field with it using huge sprayers. It was faster and cheaper.

However, Ellen pointed out, that was something neither they or the Winchester family believed in. She told Cas that they felt strongly about the over-use of pesticides and herbicides. “They’re a necessary evil,” she told him. “Without them, we’d lose our crops to weeds and bugs. But when we over use the chemicals they wind up polluting the ground water and then the weeds and bugs just adapt, becoming immune anyway. So, we do it like this, taking extra time and money in the process so that we don’t have to ruin the environment to get in our crop.”

She went on to tell him that they used to walk the bean rows and cut the weeds out with a hoe or machete. But, they simply couldn’t keep up that way anymore.

The tractor was loud in their ears as they crawled along and if they wanted to talk, they had to shout over it. Cas soon popped in his earbuds and lost himself in the simple and monotonous work. They rode for hours without stopping. Cas was baking in the sun. He was sweaty and thirsty when they finally took a break. The only person not on the bean bar was Mary. When they got their first break she was waiting for them in the pickup. She’d brought a cooler full of drinks and snacks with her and as they all gathered about, she walked around behind Sam first, spreading sun block on the tops of ears, back of his neck, and down his arms. He paid her no attention as she worked on him and simply ate his sandwich and drank his soda.

Cas watched Mary move on to Jo who was standing next to Dean and do the same. She got Dean too – popping some onto his nose and forehead and telling him his freckles meant he needed extra. Cas froze when Mary moved up behind him and began working lotion into his neck. But he let her finish and found himself smiling when she was done mothering him… happy to be counted amongst those that she looked after.

Everyone took a turn wandering off by themselves to squat down amongst the bean plants and pee. Then, they hopped back into their seats. It had been nice to take a break, but out in the hot sun, it hadn’t taken long for the oppressive heat to get the better of him. Cas found himself happy to be moving again – a steady breeze the product of their constant motion. It made the heat easier to tolerate.

They broke for lunch around 2, John bringing the tractor in from the field and parking it near the house. Mary had the kitchen table set with extra places for their friends and the group was loud and boisterous as they gorged on Mary’s fried chicken, mashed potatoes, garden vegetables and apple cobbler.

By 3:00, they were strapping in again. The guests disappeared around 7:00 to head home and do their own evening chores. The reduced crew continued to ride and spray – taking smaller swaths because of the empty chairs on the bean bar. Mary did the evening chores by herself while they continued to spray beans until they couldn’t see well enough anymore.

And so it went. For days. When they had all three of the Winchester fields done, they moved the equipment down the road to the Singer farm and began the first of two fields belonging to Bobby. The only real change was that once they were on Bobby’s land, John relinquished the tractor to him and took a seat on the bean bar next to Mary. Now, Ellen was absent from the spraying and it was her face that appeared on their breaks – bringing them supplies and making a huge lunch for all of them.

Cas thought that the kitchens of the two families were quiet similar… both were large and cheery spaces. And, both filled with good company and delicious things to eat. Laughter was loud and frequent as the friends and their families made the work experience as fun as it could have been.

Bobby only had two fields but his were larger, comprising more actual acres than what John had. At break, Mary explained that each year the crops were rotated to keep the soil from being depleted of the same nutrients year after year. So, whichever fields were corn this year would be beans next year and so on. Next year John would have more beans than Bobby because they’d plant the fields with the opposite crop.

Cas had never thought much about corn or soybeans until he came here. As he listened to Mary explain why things were done the way they were, he was watching Jo flirt with Dean shamelessly. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get on his nerves a little. But he knew that Dean wasn’t in a position to discourage it and occasionally, Dean would look right over Jo’s shoulder and give him "the look".

"The look" sent a shiver down his spine and promised Cas, without words, that Dean was thinking of no one but Cas… and that he had something to look forward to later when they could be alone.

This was far different from hay baling. It required no muscle and no stamina. Yes, it was hot and sweaty. But he wasn’t dragging like an old tired dog at the end of the day like he had been after baling. He wasn’t sore and stiff at night. He was responsive and energetic in the hayloft for Dean despite the long hours they were putting in. They continued to sneak out there together late at night – even though their days were long.

The hayloft had been Cas’ favorite place on the farm from the very first time he’d seen it. But considering how many orgasms he’d had up there with Dean? It was more than just a favorite place to him now.

The loft had become a special place, a secret place… where he met his lover for encounters of a steamy variety. It was a place where he found himself pushing the limits of his experience as he and Dean explored more and more ways to satisfy each other.

The few bales he’d pushed around to get comfortable for drawing had slowly evolved into a makeshift bed of soft straw, well hidden behind a wall of bales. The straw was soft enough to cushion knees… ass… elbows… back. It did a good job of soaking up his moans and growls and panting breaths to keep them from being heard as they drove each other to the edge with heavy hands and nimble fingers and wet tongues.

Dean was a perfect companion in all things fleshly and lascivious. He was every bit as filthy and obscene as Cas and both had considered taking the plunge and ‘going all the way’. Sometimes, when Dean was bent over a bale and panting out broken fragments of sentences while Cas licked and sucked his clenching pink bud, he’d say rousing things about how hard he wanted Cas to fuck him. Or he’d promise to split Cas open wide over his cock.

Dean’s ability to give head was matched by no other. He told Cas he’d been thinking about sucking dick since he was about 12 or 13… so he’d had five years to imagine all the ways he wanted to do it. He was making up for lost time. He loved to work Cas over until he was begging and then suddenly stop. He’d smile like the devil and talk about something completely off the wall… like the virtue of apple pie versus peach pie… and then when breathing was normal again he’d launch himself into Cas’ lap and start sucking again. He’d bury fingers in Cas’ ass and squeeze balls while he choked and gagged on the length of him and at these moments Cas would promise Dean that he couldn’t wait to be fucked raw – that Dean could take him again and again forever - that once Dean started fucking Cas he was never going to be allowed to stop.

The two were insatiable. They’d linger in the hayloft sometimes all night, not wanting to have to return to separate beds in the house – even though their beds were far more comfortable. The only thing that really motivated them back to the house anymore was the fear of falling asleep and missing chores. That would be the fastest way to be discovered in their affair.

No one ever came up to the very top of the hayloft but them. The boys, including Sam, came to the loft for chores in the morning, dropping hay through the floor to the animals below. But they took bales from the front of the stack near the bottom – never having any reason to crawl up to the top the way Dean and Cas did.

Neither John nor Mary ever went up the ladder into the loft at all. Their rendezvous spot here was perfectly private. But, both boys knew that if they ever didn’t show for chores in the morning, the hayloft would be one of the first places searched. Everyone knew that Cas liked to come up here. So, the last thing they could allow themselves to do was fall asleep here. If they did, they’d likely be discovered. And if Dean was going to come out to his parents… he didn’t want it to be because John had stumbled upon them naked and tangled in a pile of hay.

True to his word, Cas had not put any pressure on Dean to come out of his comfortable closet. If Cas was bothered by their secrecy – he made no sign of it. The only taboo subject between them was fall. No one had actually said it out loud but it was a big, fat elephant in the room. They both knew this wasn’t going to last forever. They’d have this summer together and then, who knows? Cas was still dreaming of California. Dean was still working to pay off the Impala. After riding beans, he’d hit a milestone too… he now had less than $500 to go.

On the last day of bean riding, they had finished around 4:00. With a few hours to kill before chores and spirits high, Dean had gotten permission from his folks to take them over to the quarry in the van. The four of them boosted the cooler, which still had some snacks and drinks left in it, and chucked it into the van along with their towels. They blasted tunes on the way over there and then left the windows down on the van and the music playing as they carried the cooler to the edge of the water and dropped their towels next to it. They spent the rest of the afternoon taking turns launching from the rope swing into the cool water and dunking each other for sport.

Sam and Cas sat in the back seat on the way home, Dean and Jo up front. Sam spent the entire journey leaning forward and trying to persuade Dean to help him meet Ruby alone. John and Mary had a rule that no one was old enough to date until they were old enough to drive. This left Sam feeling slighted, wanting to date Ruby and being unable. Especially when his birthday was so far away.

Sam was lobbying for Dean to pretend to take him and Cas out to the movies, but then he and Cas would just leave him and Ruby there alone, going off to find something else to do. Cas found himself warming to the idea. Mostly because it would mean him and Dean would inadvertently find themselves on a date… without arousing any suspicion what-so-ever.

Dean didn’t seem to be giving it much thought as Jo chattered at him in the front seat, and Cas gave Sam a look of solidarity as he leaned back in his seat feeling ignored. But it turned out, Sam was to get his wish. With a group effort of covert texting under the dinner table later that week, Dean managed to pull one off for his little brother.

Ruby met them at the park near the school and hopped in the Impala, which had been granted them for the evening. With Sam and Ruby in back, they’d motored across town and parked at the theater. They didn’t leave the fledgling couple completely unattended, though. Dean and Cas simply chose to see a different movie that was playing around the same time.

Cas enjoyed sitting next to Dean in the theater, munching popcorn and swigging soda as the obvious plot of serial killer and his worthy detective opponent played out on screen. The theater wasn’t crowded and they’d sat in the back, propping their feet up on the seats ahead of them. As they began losing interest in the half empty popcorn bucket, Dean set it to the floor and relaxed back, playfully knocking Cas’ elbow off the arm rest and settling there himself.

Cas smirked and plotted revenge – waiting for a key moment when suspense was palpable onscreen and then pinching Dean’s thigh mercilessly. As he startled out of his seat, Dean inadvertently gave up his armrest. And when his elbow tried to reclaim it… it found a wall of Cas in its way. They both grinned and chuckled quietly as they elbowed each other for control of the armrest. Eventually they flipped it up and out of the way, sinking down lower in their seats and twining their fingers together as they watched the last of the movie. They didn’t let go until the lights came on after.

When they arrived back at the park, they walked off together and smoked a joint behind the outdoor restrooms just to give Sam and Ruby some time alone to say their good nights… possibly let Sam steel if a kiss if he was bold enough.

They had Mary’s family movie night later that same week and dinner out after. It was at the restaurant that John told Dean he had a surprise.

“You’ve been very responsible with your chores and your schooling, Dean. You took on a big commitment when you agreed to buy the Impala and you’ve worked hard to see that commitment through. Out of the money you’ve earned, you’ve paid $4525 towards buying the car from me. And as a reward for your diligence and hard work, your mother and I are going to consider your debt paid. Congratulations Dean, Baby is all yours.”

Cas had watched Dean leap from the table in the middle of a crowded restaurant to bury his mother and father in ferocious hugs of gratitude. He was handed an envelope which had had the title inside. Dean was visibly high for the rest of the evening and when they got home he begged his parents to take the car out immediately. They teased him a bit… pretending to have to give the matter some thought… but they let him have it. He clapped Cas on the shoulder as he strutted by with the keys and said, “C’mon!”

“Where are we going?” asked Cas as he trailed along after his friend.

“Who cares?” shouted Dean over his shoulder.

Cas could hear Mary and John laughing in the kitchen as they boys headed out. They drove around town for a while – windows down and music blaring. They waved at Dean’s friends as they cruised around and eventually wound up at Benny’s house. They smoked out and played video games, but with early practice hanging over his head, Benny had tapped out around 11:00 saying he needed to get to bed.

Not ready to go home yet, still high from the incredible gift he’d been given, Dean suggested they head to the quarry and go night swimming.

“We don’t have suits,” replied Cas.

Dean gave Cas "the look" and then they both broke into smiles as they nodded agreement.

When they arrived, Dean turned off the lights but left the music playing just loud enough for them to hear from the water. The air between them was thick as they stood at the trunk of the Impala and stripped, watching each other undress in the moonlight. Dean kept his eyes on Cas as he started walking backwards away from the car, asking for Cas to follow him with his eyes.

They didn’t launch into the water with the rope. Rather they slipped into it quietly, creating no more than a few soft ripples as they pushed softly away from the rocky edge and out into the deeper water. They didn’t have much to say as they floated about, but their eyes stayed locked on each other’s faces and before long they were drifting together, exchanging soft touches beneath the surface. Eventually, they wound up in a shallow place with both feet on the rocky bottom, knees bent to keep all but their heads under the cool water. Cas felt Dean run his hand up his thigh and then let the boy snake an arm around his waist. As he was pulled closer, Cas spread his legs so he could wrap them around Dean as the distance closed between them.

Cas felt his package stiffen as it came to rest against Dean’s belly in the water and he wrapped his ankles around his lovers back tightly as lips found his and began pressing soft kisses to him.

“I’ve been thinking Cas,” said Dean between pecks.

“Hmm?”

“Been thinking about California.”

Immediately, Cas’ heart dropped like a stone. Why was Dean picking this perfect moment to talk about their end?

“How much do you think you’ll need for your bus ticket?”

Cas shrugged. He hadn’t even checked yet. “I don’t know…  I guess I figured not much. Maybe a hundred and fifty, maybe a little more?”

“So, most of what you’re saving for is your first month’s rent?” pressed Dean.

“Yeah, I guess. And food and stuff. I want to have enough that I can get by until I find a job. Why are you asking?” questioned Cas as Dean’s exploratory kisses moved across his jaw and down onto his neck.

“Just thinkin', I guess,” Dean whispered at his ear, “thinkin' maybe I could save you on the bus ticket.”

“How?” asked Cas absentmindedly, losing himself in his lovers kisses.

“I could drive you.”

“What?” he asked, wondering where Dean was going with this.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now Cas,” said Dean as he pulled back from kissing to watch his friends face. “I don’t think I want to go to college anymore either. I want to go with you. We can just take off… in my new baby… we’ll road trip out there… to California… together.”

Cas was speechless.

“I know it’s your dream, California, but I don’t wanna say goodbye and watch you ride away on a bus. I wanna be with you when you see it. I wanna be with you… do you want that too?” he asked hopefully, “Do you want me with you?”

.


	9. The Things We Didn't Know We Needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ravenwolf36 for the editing and feedback!

“Fuck yeah,” he growled as he wrapped octopus arms around Deans neck, “Fuck yeah I’d want you with me.”

Cas closed his eyes as they kissed deeply and behind his eyelids flickered an enticing barrage of images destined to steal his heart from his chest. He could see Dean’s freckled face grinning as they stood elbow to elbow looking out over the rolling waves of the Pacific for the first time. He could imagine them walking down a palm tree lined street, hand in hand under a blue sky, unashamed in public together. His heart swelled as he saw them in the Impala, riding off into the sunset together.

The captivating images of sun-kissed freckles and puffy lips swollen with salt water teased at Cas while they kissed urgently under the light of a summer moon. The water was cool as it lapped gently against them, tempering the heat that radiated from their bodies. The drone of crickets was beginning to take on an enchanting quality as they staggered clumsily to shore and fell into the lush grasses along the bank.

When they rumbled into the driveway later that night, the stillness of pre-dawn had settled over the farm. There was a light on in the kitchen downstairs and when they entered, Mary was breaking eggs into a pan. The smell of biscuits baking sent a tug to Cas’ stomach.

He was certain he looked frightful. Likely his hair was unruly from having been wet when he and Dean had tumbled into the grass together. Instinctively, he put a hand to his head to feel for any leaves or other ground cover that may put a question mark in Mary’s mind.

She talked with them about mundane things while she puttered about the kitchen. Dean never did join Cas at the table. He’d exited quickly when Sammy had stumbled down the stairs and Cas had a hunch that he’d gone for a hot shower. They’d both been overcome by goosebumps in the car on the way home and Dean had even wound up turning on the heat… an odd thing for summer. But wet from swimming and then rolling about on cool and dewy grass, they’d actually found themselves quite cold by the time they stood to put their clothes back on.

Cas’ mind was circling back to their romp as Mary laid a steaming plate in front of him. He felt a bit guilty for his dirty mind as he ate. He hoped she was oblivious to his thoughts – especially since they were hyper focused on her eldest son. But, Dean in the sixty-nine position with him was an image that was impossible to set aside. He couldn’t just dismiss it and eat breakfast. The filthy good thoughts swirled in his head and lingered there through chores… still warming his chest when he fell asleep in his bed afterward.

He didn’t wake until he heard the call for lunch. He rose with crusty eyes. He was hungry and placated his tired body that he could sleep again after he’d eaten. Mary was putting out all the fixings for them to build their own sandwiches. It was one of Cas’ favorite lunches. He loved adding her crispy bacon to a sliced chicken sandwich and then piling ranch dressing over the top. He’d never given much thought to vegetables before… but her fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes had an entirely different taste from those he was used to getting on burgers and salads everywhere else. They were just so much more flavorful; and he found himself moaning as he bit into his heavenly creation.

He heard John chuckle and opened his eyes to see both of Dean’s parents amused by his enjoyment. Realizing he’d been the focus of their attention sent his eyes darting around the table and he saw that Sam and Dean were focused on him too. He felt a blush creeping up on him… an embarrassment that largely stemmed from associating that same moan with Dean who was smirking at him.

Against his leg, in the pocket of his jeans, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and glanced at it under the table. There was a text message from Dean. Cas glanced at it. It was a beautiful picture of what he supposed was the California coast. The water was perfectly blue, as was the sky. The sun had a warm and hazy quality to it that his mind instantly associated with the Pacific Coast even though he’d never been there to see it for himself.

Cas was unable to contain his smile as he looked at the image. It appeared that he and Dean now shared another secret… the joy of it was almost too much to bear.

It only took a few days for Dean to settle into the increased freedom he was enjoying now that he was the owner of a car. He still had to exhibit the courtesy of asking his parents before he went places, but it seemed to be more of a formality than a necessity. They never said no. Being allowed to take the Impala used to be a surprise treat when it was allowed. Now, it was Dean’s car and they went everywhere in it. Now, when they went somewhere as a family, it felt strange to climb into the minivan.

Dean’s last practice was Friday and then on Saturday was a tournament. If Dean’s team did well, they’d keep playing with the hopes of winning a title. If they did poorly, they’d be done for the season. Dean was a bit nervous in the hours leading up to the game and stayed in his room. Cas didn’t push the boundary – not wanting to intrude if he wasn’t wanted there. He hung out in Sam’s room playing games and trying not to think about it.

He cheered loudly from the stands that evening as Dean’s team won their game and proceeded to the next level. The town had invested in some mediocre fireworks for the event and Cas watched, spellbound, as Dean stood centerfield and tipped his face skyward to see them. He looked like an All American standing there under the blooming explosions, proud and surrounded by celebrating teammates. For Cas, he was more than a wet dream. He was every dream.

After the game the town seemed to light up with energy from the win… cars honking when they passed known players… kids hanging out windows as they cruised down the main street and hollered at each other… girls putting on a show and hoping to snag some attention from a young man in a grass stained uniform.

Dean was riding a high – too proud to go change out of his uniform. He rumbled around town in Baby with his window down and elbow hanging out… Cas in the passenger seat. He howled towards Benny out his window when they met his truck on main street and Benny howled back. Soon they were all parked outside McDonald’s. Dean was leaning on the hood of his hard earned prize, shiny black paint job reflecting the lights of the building, while others from the team moved about the lot mixing with girls and other friends.

This was a familiar scene for Dean – McDonald's on a Saturday night. The restaurant was on the main drag and as kids cruised around, they’d swing in and lap the building as the turn-around before cruising back down the main drag in the other direction. There were always at least a few cars parked here with friends meeting up in the lot or going inside to grab food.

It didn’t take long for someone to come around with a ball cap out – seeking ‘donations’ for the first keg. By midnight there was a raging party at the pits. By 2am, Dean was so hammered he couldn’t walk a straight line. Cas laughed along with the group at Dean’s drunken antics. Cas was drinking a little, but was keeping himself sober enough to drive – wanting to let Dean have his celebratory night without worrying that they’d wreck his new car. He was glad he’d kept his wits about him too… because as the hour started growing late an unexpected thing happened.

Cole sauntered up to Cas while he was waiting in line for the keg. They hadn’t spoken since the night that he’d openly confessed to being gay at Molly’s party. Now, for the first time in over a month, Cole greeted him. The kid was obviously drunk as he walked over and slung an arm around Cas’ shoulders. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. On Dean the smell was delicious. On Cole it was not. Cas placated the obnoxious drunk for as long as possible, stepping out from under the weight of his arm when it was his turn to fill his cup.

He took advantage of Cole’s dulled senses to easily side-step him as he took his drink and exited the line in the opposite direction. But several attempts to lose him fully in the darkened clearing were unsuccessful and it became clear to Cas quickly that Cole wanted some dick. He was drunk enough to believe that Cas would somehow be interested in indulging his lust despite their lack of communication over the last few weeks. Even if Cas had wanted the guy – he wouldn’t have stooped so low as to accept the sloppy seconds of someone who had dissed him like Cole had.

Cas truly harbored no ill towards the closeted. Their life of hiding and shame was punishment enough. He’d spent his time there too. But for Cole to assume that Cas would be willing to serve as an occasional piece of ass? Too fucking much. So, when Cole actually made a move to try and get Cas alone – he leaned in and grasped the back of Cole’s neck firmly, pulling him in close so those around them wouldn’t hear. Then he said firmly, “Give it up man. It ain't gonna happen.”

“We’ll see,” he’d slurred in response, “You know you want it.”

Cas rolled his eyes and made an intentional cut back towards Benny and Dean who were now deeply engrossed in a conversation with Andrea and her friends. Cas leaned on Dean’s shiny Baby and waited patiently for the conversation to reach out and wrap him into it. About the time he’d started to relax, Cole wandered up to their group and leaned on the car next to Cas. He was so drunk that his cup was tipping… drizzling beer onto his shoes as he spoke.

Cas ignored him and continued to be play defense. But it didn’t take long for a drunken Dean to start noticing Cole’s advances. His response was swift and immediate. Cas watched Dean loop an arm around his drunken friend and walked him away. Cas watched them secretively as he continued to follow the conversation around him.

There was a rather tense moment when Cas could tell that Dean was warning Cole away. The two squared off near the keg and had to be pulled apart by those around them. Cas pulled himself up off the car and began to walk in that direction, but found a bear-sized fist on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Benny looking him in the eye.

“Don’t do it brotha,” he warned in a saucy voice – heavy with alcohol. “You ain't gonna help that none.”

Cas looked from Benny to Dean and then back to Benny. Something was there in Benny’s fuddled expression. Recognition slammed into Cas like a punch to the gut. Benny knew. He looked at Benny critically, wondering if his knowledge meant harm for Dean. He couldn’t tell.

“I got this,” said Benny smoothly, voice rolling thick and smooth like molasses. "Hold my beer,” he added as he pushed his red plastic cup into Cas’ hands.

Cas watched helplessly from the sidelines as Benny moved like a lumbering ox towards a tense standoff between Dean and Cole. Cas couldn’t hear the words being exchanged, but he’d bet his bottom dollar that a loose-lipped and drunken Dean Winchester was an inch away from outing himself in public. He watched as Benny entered the small circle and easily pulled Dean away. He then saw the small crowd that had gathered crack into smiles and laughter. Benny must’ve found a comedic way of diffusing the situation. As they returned, Dean was stumbling along with Benny and the two didn’t look back at the small crowd behind them.

When Cas’ focus returned to Cole, he saw the guy swoon into his group of buddies and be caught amidst laughter. Cas continued to watch as the kid was carried off by his friends. Feeling a sharp clap to the side of his face, Cas snapped his attention to Dean who was dropped against the Impala next to him. Had Dean just smacked his face?

No one but Benny was in ear shot when Dean’s face turned ugly and twisted and he barked roughly at Cas, “Don’t look at him. Look at me, fucker. I’m the one takin’ you home.”

Cas looked over Dean’s shoulder to Benny and waited to see what Dean’s best friend would make of their exchange. Benny was firm when he said, “It’s probably time for you two to head out. You okay to drive?”

Cas nodded and turned to Dean for the keys. But the look on Dean’s face was harsh. He wasn’t going to make this easy. He ended up having to dig into Dean’s pocket for the keys. He gave Benny a grateful nod as the lumbering jock positioned his body to block the view as he did it - so no one would notice Cas’ hands on Dean that way. Then the gentle giant worked to ease Dean into the passenger seat as Cas stepped around the car to the driver’s seat and started it up.

The drive home was silent. Dean’s head was slumped against the window, mouth open and drooling. Cas’ good humor returned now that the night’s tension was resolved. He pulled out his phone and drove one handed as he snapped a picture of Dean and laughed. When Baby was safely tucked into the garage, he sent Dean’s drooling picture to Benny.

Cas was surprised at how easy it was to pull Dean from the car and support his weight as he navigated his partially conscious lover though the kitchen and up the stairs. All the heavy lifting he’d been doing at Winchester Farms was paying off. He dropped Dean to his bed and pulled off his shoes, pulling the blanket up over him and looking around to be sure no one was lingering in the doorway before he leaned in to kiss him lightly.

5:00 came early. It was Dean’s day to sleep in, so he and Sam ate breakfast and did chores. As they worked on shoveling out the horse stalls, Sam mentioned hoping for another date with Ruby.

“Did you kiss her last time?” he asked, curious.

“Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“Amazing,” said the younger Winchester with obvious stars in his eyes, “fucking amazing.”

Cas grinned as he watched Sam’s expression glow. When they returned from cleaning stalls they saw John unloading gas cans from the bed of the truck. Knowing they’d be mowing Cas turned to the kid and put up his hands for a quick match of rock, paper, scissors. He lost.

Sam was at the other end of the property taking long passes on the riding mower when Dean ambled up to Cas. He cut off the mower he was pushing along the back-side of the barn and wiped his brow as Dean stepped up to him.

“How you feelin'?” he asked as he leaned up against the building.

“I’ll live,” he laughed, “I don’t remember shit. Did you drive us home?”

“Yep. Carried your fat ass up all those stairs too. You owe me one.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Dean smirked at him – clearly implying he’d be making it up to Cas in the hayloft.

Cas decided not to beat around the bush. He wiped his brow again and said, “Dean, Benny knows.”

“What?”

“He knows Dean.”

“You told him?”

“No. But he knows. I’m sure of it.”

Dean nodded and began to walk away.

“Dean?” called Cas. He watched Dean turn towards him for a beat and then keep walking back towards the house. He restarted the mower, puzzled by Dean’s reaction, and continued his work. A few minutes later, he was watching the Impala back out of the garage and pull out of the driveway.

Dean was gone until it was time for evening chores. He and Dean and Sam worked together and then went in for supper. Cas noticed that Dean was more relaxed than he’d been that morning but he hadn’t given any nods or winks of reassurance to Cas and it was setting his nerves on edge. Unable to bear the tension anymore he sent Dean a text message after dinner as the family lingered in front of the TV. He watched from his seat on the couch as Dean received his text and typed out a response.

To Cas’ message asking, “are we ok?” Dean had responded, “yep.”

It would be another six hours before Cas would hear a soft knock at his door in the middle of the night. Unable to sleep, the knock had been sweet relief. He bounded from his bed and opened his door.

“Coming?” Dean asked him.

Cas nodded and followed outside. Over a joint in the darkened silo Dean explained that he didn’t remember much of last night but he’d gone to see Benny today and been filled in. Benny had assured Dean that he’d been suspecting them for a while and didn’t care. He’d keep the secret. Dean had thanked him for stepping in when he had at the kegger and helping keep their secret when he’d been too drunk and angry at Cole to keep his mouth shut.

Then he looked at Cas by the light of the glowing ember and asked, “Did you do anything with Cole?”

“Of course not,” said Cas. He watched relief play over Dean’s face. Rather than give his man a lecture on not questioning his loyalty, Cas simply tipped his head to Dean’s shoulder and passed the joint.

Dean was a little different once Benny knew their secret. Cas couldn’t put his finger on what was different, but it didn’t seem to change anything for the two of them. They went about their chores and family life as they always had, and they even took Sammy out to meet Ruby again. In the hayloft, Dean was every bit as enthusiastic as he’d ever been.

The only thing that really mystified Cas was Dean’s behavior around Benny. Though he was aware of Dean’s relationship with Cas and seemed to be okay with it… Dean still didn’t relax their pretenses around his friend. Even when the three were alone… Dean was never openly affectionate with Cas. It made him wonder about how Dean would be if they did slip away to California together. How would things be then? Until now, Cas had assumed that away from his hometown and living amongst strangers, Dean would treat Cas the way he did when they were alone together. Now he wasn’t so sure.

As the month of July peaked, it found them baling hay in another field. This one was less work than the first, considerably smaller. And this time, Cas’ blisters were less severe. After a long day, Cas had been seduced out of his room by Dean’s enigmatic smile at his door. They crossed the lawn together in the dark. There was no moon or stars to light their way – clouds covering the sky. Dean used his phone to shine a soft blue light at their feet as they turned the corner by the machine shed and stole into the small door of the old silo.

They settled down on the cement ledge that had become their couch, Cas playing idly with his phone while Dean lit one up.

“Hey Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“Does your dad know?”

“What?”

“Does he know you’re gay?”

“I don’t think so. But even if he did… I don’t think it would bother him half as much as my eye-liner does.”

Dean chuckled at that.

“Hey!” said Cas, who was absorbed in his phone, “One of my favorite bands is coming and the tickets are only $25!”

“Where?”

“Chicago. The Metro.”

“The Metro?”

“Yeah, it’s a club known for good music. My friends and I hit a show there once in a while. Wanna go?”

“To Chicago?”

“Yeah… make it a road trip?”

“Umm… sounds fun, I guess. Yeah,” said Dean. Cas could see him warming to the idea as he got used to it, “Road trip to anything sounds fun. What band?”

“Murder by Death.”

“Is there any of that on the playlist you made me?”

“I’ll put some on there. Bet you’ll like it. You ever been to Chicago?”

“Nope.”

“Well, the Metro is like, right down the street from Wrigley Field,” he said as he clicked around on his phone, “and it looks like… yep. There’s a game that day. Same day as the show - the Cubs play the Reds. It’s an afternoon game… we could go see the Cubs play and then hit the show after… spend the night and drive home the next day.”

“Fuck, Cas, that sounds awesome!” Dean enthused as he moved closer to look over Cas’ shoulder at the screen, “How much are tickets to the game?”

“I don’t know how to pick a decent seat,” he admitted – passing his phone to Dean, “the prices are by color.”

Dean looked intently at the seating chart and recommended a decent pair of seats that were $23. He was doing math in his head. It would be about $50 each for the combined cost of the tickets to the game and the show. They’d need about $100 for gas and another $100 if they stayed in a hotel.

“If we do this… will we stay at your house? Or a hotel?”

“Up to you,” said Cas, “If you wanna get any… I suggest steering clear of my house. We shouldn’t even tell my dad we’re in town.”

Completing his mental calculations, Dean said, “We’re lookin' at spending like $150 each for this if we go,” he said, “plus whatever we spend on food and drinks.”

Cas waited and watched Dean’s face in the glow of his phone. It was easy to see that Dean wanted to make the trip.

“I don’t have as much money as you Cas,” he cautioned, “Everything I’ve been earning this summer has been going into that car. Since Dad gave it to me, I’ve been saving but I only have like $600. What if we end up short for California because we took this trip?”

Cas shrugged, “Whatever you think Dean. I’d like to go. But if you think we should just skip it and save the money that’s fine too. It’s up to you.”

“Fuck it,” he said with a smirk, “Let’s go.”

Cas took the joint from him, now burnt down to a small roach, and took a hit before smashing it out. A heavy roll of thunder shook the ground under them as he did.

“Head in?” asked Cas.

“Yeah,” and as they were ducking out the little door he added, “We’ll need to ask Mom n' Dad.”

“Will they say yes?”

“Don’t know. Never asked to do anything like this before.”

They were just emerging from the little door when the first fat drops of rain spattered on them. They took off at a run towards the house, flinging themselves onto the back porch just as the deluge hit. Cas stood for a moment, watching the downpour through the screen and inhaling the clean scent of the rain as it drifted in on the breeze. He felt Dean snake an arm around his waist from behind and hot breath on his neck. A soft kiss followed; gently teasing.

Lightning lit up the yard like daylight several times in quick succession and the thundering of heavy rain on the metal roof above them was deafening. He smiled a little as he realized that their time of asking permission for things was almost over. It was July. In a few short weeks, his father would be here to retrieve him. Shortly after, he’d be making his exit. The prospect of being out on his own and heading to California had always been enticing. But now, with Dean attached to that dream, it was so much sweeter.

Anticipation for their adventure curled in his stomach as he stared out at the rain and enjoyed the feeling of Dean’s chin on his shoulder. They stood like that for a few minutes, just watching the rain together, before they headed inside and crawled into their separate beds.

At lunch the following day, Dean broached the subject of taking a road trip to Chicago. John and Mary seemed surprisingly unconcerned with the prospect of an overnight trip, though John had given them a lecture on the dangers of the city… seeming to forget that it was Cas’s home town. Mary had assisted Dean in purchasing both sets of tickets online using her credit card. That had led to a discussion of how Dean should send away for his first credit card, which then led to a discussion of how to use credit and the inevitable consequences of poor financial decision making.

Cas watched it all unfold quietly. He loved them so much, these stand-in parents. Dean had no idea how lucky he was. Cas thought of his own family dynamic. It had been very similar to this one when his mother was alive. But now? There was just no joy left. Cancer had eaten it all away.

Cas contemplated this as he watched the Winchester dynamic. He realized that if Mary were taken from this family and John was trying to raise his kids without her… the life Sam and Dean lived would be similar to his own. Without a loving mother there to provide warmth, the cold military tactics of the father would become oppressive. The entire focus of these ex-military men was respect. Pride. Hard work. It was the presence of a loving mother that provided the yin for the yang and sweet with the bitter. It gave balance.

Now, for Cas, it was a lesson. He began to see the similarities between his own father and the John Winchester he’d been putting up on a pedestal all summer. Cas found himself starting to empathize with his father a little as he realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d had the warmth stolen from his life when his mother had died.

What would John be without Mary? That’s what his Father was. Deacon without Carol. Cas had to excuse himself from the room as his emotions got the better of him. For the first time in a long time… he let himself love his father. And as he did – tears leaked down his cheeks for the way they had treated each other since she’d passed. She wouldn’t have liked it at all. She’d have rolled over in her grave if she’d heard the things that father and son had said to each other.  From his little bed, in the glow of a busted Mickey Mouse lamp, Cas called his dad for the first time all summer.

It was a stilted conversation, both of them uncertain of what to really say. But as they’d talked, the barrier seemed to come down. In the end they had parted with “I love you” and “I love you too, Dad.”

Cas cried that night, until he fell asleep. It wasn’t the first time he’d cried himself out over the loss of his mother. And it likely wasn’t going to be the last time either. But it was the first time where any of those tears had been shed on behalf of his father’s pain… his father’s loss… the abyss of emptiness that had settled over both of them and soured their relationship in a way that nothing else could’ve.

Once again, 5:00 am came way too early. But Cas rose without questioning it or even feeling irritated by it. He just put on his clothes and did it. His body was getting used to the cycle and it wasn’t even a challenge anymore.

When he came into the kitchen, he saw that he was the first to join Mary there. But today, he did something he’d never done before. With the kitchen empty of any other Winchesters it was easy to indulge himself. He knew her well enough now to not even feel weird about it as he walked to her and leaned in.

Rather than telling her how he wanted his eggs, he just let his head fall to her shoulder and allowed her arms to envelope him in a warm embrace. He hugged her tightly, not in place of his mother but because he missed her so much and loved this woman almost as much as he’d loved his own mom. She held him tightly, burning eggs be damned, and stroked her fingers through his hair as she swayed with him there. If she wondered what had gotten into him, she didn’t ask. And he didn’t speak to her about it either. The cocoon of her arms was a welcome reprieve from his pain.

It wasn’t the first time he’d given Mary a hug. But it was the first time he’d clung to her like that and let it be more than just a simple show of affection. This had come from an entirely different place… one that usually stayed hidden. But he let her see his need for a moment and she’d known exactly what to do.

Nothing.

No talking.

No platitudes or false encouragement or canned sentiments.

No questions.

Just a show of kindness and support that channeled into him and gave him what he’d needed most. Love. And he carried it with him in his heart for days afterward. 

Dean’s team had lost in the second round of tournament. That meant baseball was officially over and Dean was now rotated back in for chores. The rotation of “days off” from chores were shifted a bit that week to accommodate for Dean and Cas’ trip to Chicago. They left early that Friday morning, waking at chore time but not doing chores. They grabbed quick showers and threw their bags in the car next to a cooler packed by Mary. It was about six hours on the road to reach their destination, most of it spent with the windows down as they sped along the interstate. They talked some and sang along to the radio. Cas put the best of Murder by Death on a playlist and then gave Dean his phone and earbuds, wanting to give his friend a taste of the music they’d be hearing that night and hoping he’d enjoy it. Tired, he napped a little as Dean drove.

They were there by lunch, way too early for the game. They parked at Wrigley and walked a few blocks to have Quizno's for lunch. It was good, and much cheaper than ballpark food. Then, they walked around the field and took some pictures before finding their seats as the game got underway.

It was awesome to have Dean next to him for the game. He’d become accustomed to cheering FOR Dean. But he soon found it equally exciting to cheer WITH Dean. His friend had chosen their seats well and they had a great time.

Afterwards, they traveled a few blocks over to Wrigley Hostel and got checked into their room. It was far nicer than Cas had expected it to be and they tumbled into the bed together – drunk with the freedom of being alone together in a real bed, behind a door that locked.

As they worked to get each other out of their clothes, Dean whispered, “What time is the show? How long do we have?”

“Starts at nine,” he whispered, “we have _hours_.”

“We’ll use them _all_ ,” he teased as he pushed himself to the top and rolled his hips down. Cas’ moan was light and breathy as Dean began rocking on him – working their dicks against each other’s repeatedly and building a rhythm.

“Fuck, Dean,” his friend groaned beneath him, “I wanna… I wanna…”

“I know,” he whispered, “Me too.”

They didn’t last long grinding together in a slow torture before eager hands slid between them grasped hot flesh. They stroked themselves together and clasped lips to throats and chests and called out each other’s names when they finally came all over their tanned, flat stomachs.

As Dean tugged an unused corner of the sheet over to clean them up, he was focusing on the perfect little brown dot that hovered near Cas’ right nipple. He licked and sucked the breast into his mouth one more time as he laid down with his friend and let his head rest on Cas’ chest. Spent as he was, and with his lover’s hand carding through his hair hypnotically, he knew he’d better set an alarm or risk sleeping too long. He reached to his pile of pants on the floor, extricated his phone and set it to wake them at 8:00.

When the alarm went off, the light in the room had changed. The sun was setting. Dean untangled himself from the warmth of Cas’ arms and flicked on the bedside lamp. He sat on the edge of the bed waking up slowly and then headed down the hall to the community bathroom. He freshened up a bit and when he returned to the room a bit later, Cas was seated at the little table/desk. He was dressed and was leaning forward into a mirror, applying eyeliner.

Dean had seen Cas wearing eyeliner more times than he could count. But mostly it had been in the early days… he seldom wore it anymore. He’d kind of thought Cas had abandoned the practice all together. But now it would seem not.

Dean settled on the corner of the bed nearby and watched him, intrigued. Cas was dressed in all black, much like he had been on the day they’d met. However, Dean no longer saw the clothes as being unattractive. Quite the opposite, actually, black was a very flattering color on Cas. And as he watched his best friend trace his eyelash line with charcoal pencil, he found that it really drew attention to his best feature. The crystalline, sapphire blue eyes lit up behind the black accent around them. And, with no one around to roll their eyes at what Cas was wearing, Dean found that he liked it more than he cared to admit.

Cas glimpsed him staring and smiled into the mirror warmly, letting Dean watch him. When he stood and moved closer, he surprised both Cas and himself by sliding into Cas’ lap the way he’d normally slide onto the back of a horse. He looked Cas square in the eye as he straddled him and said, “Put some on me?”

He hadn’t known he was going to do that… or even that he’d been interested in it. But he did notice that his heartbeat picked up a little at their closeness when Cas leaned in – only a few inches from his face. He felt warm as his friend grasped his chin and tipped his head back.

Then he worked to not blink or cringe as a pencil tip was dragged along the edge of his eye. It was quite uncomfortable, but he let his friend finish both eyes before he tipped his head forward and blotted his watery eyes on his sleeve. Then he looked in the mirror.

He looked really different… like an entirely different person. He looked more effeminate – but he was more attractive. Without a doubt. The slight curl of the line as it ended at the corner, accentuated the curl of his eyelashes. He looked like a Twink and he knew it, but he’d never felt so sexy in all his life.

Cas leaned in and brushed his lips softly against his cheek, “thank you Dean,” he whispered, thrilled with the level of acceptance Dean was giving him.

“No,” said Dean firmly, “thank you, Cas.”

[](http://s665.photobucket.com/user/Rachella_Deville/media/Ch%209%20-%20Collage%202_zpsezwrwqyd.png.html)


	10. Two Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, again, to Ravenwolf36 for editing my sloppy-ass work! ;)

With darkened eyes and wickedly disheveled hair, Dean and Cas headed out onto the streets of Chicago. With the exception of his eye make-up Dean wasn’t wearing anything too flashy… his own jeans and a dark t-shirt. He’d looped a few of Cas’ black rubber bracelets around his wrist. Dean knew this would never be a style he wore every day. He wasn’t going to start putting on eyeliner for ball practice. But he loved how sexy he felt this way and he loved how Cas was looking at him.

Cas’ eyeliner was thicker than his own and it suited the wide arch of his eyebrow, dramatic and striking. With his piercings in – it was an even bolder look. He kept catching glimpses of them in store windows as they walked down the street, and he couldn’t help but think how good they looked together.

They cut a few blocks over from the hostel and fell into the long line forming outside the Metro. Dean had expected a crowd of mohawks and painted faces. But as he looked around he was surprised by the diversity of the crowd. Some people were dressed far more outrageously then they were, while others were far more conservative – ratty jeans and t-shirts seemed to be the most common denominator.

As they waited in line, they made small talk with those around them. When the doors opened and the line began to move, Dean found himself getting excited. With wristbands clipped on they spilled out into the hall where the lights were trained on the empty stage and a DJ was setting up.

Chaos reigned for a while as the place filled up but they soon found themselves getting to know those that were sandwiched in near them as they bellied up to the stage; as close as they could get. Dean watched as Cas traded off a joint for drinks and soon the lights were dimming; the DJ had started to spin. Dean found himself far more agreeable to dancing than normal. It was easy to relax and enjoy himself here… mostly because the place cultivated a feeling of non-conformity that he’d never really experienced before. The need to act a certain way was completely absent.

During his time with Cas, Dean had come to see that he’d misunderstood the punk scene, from the very beginning. It wasn’t about trying to look different or weird or even to intimidate people. It was about the absence of judgement… being yourself and embracing the differences in others too. This summer with Cas had taught Dean a lot about the danger of judgmental thinking and closed-mindedness, and he honestly felt like he was a better person for it.

Now, amidst a mass of others who weren’t judging, Dean found himself feeling more free than he ever had. He went with the music, let his body move, let his eyes wander and get comfortable in his environment. It was a new thing for him to look around with curiosity, rather than for the purposes of comparison.

The opening act took the stage and they were exactly what he’d always imagined punk club music would be. The lead singer had a tall green Mohawk and so many tattoos that he couldn’t even tell what they were. He wore make up and jewelry and he screamed angrily into his microphone. It wasn’t appealing music for Dean, but he’d been having such fun dancing that he just went with it – swept along with the crowd as it moved – literally taking his feet from the floor on many occasions and leaving him riding the crowd with no control over which direction he was moving. It felt like flying as he was wielded around the floor haphazardly. Finding himself in the mosh pit up front, he thrust himself higher and rode the wave out. When his feet found floor again, he looked around for Cas but didn’t see his friend. They were separated for a few minutes but soon enough there was a warm body at his back and an arm around his waist. He smiled when he looked over his shoulder and found his eyes locked with Cas. They drew together without considering those around them and pressed their faces and bodies together for a hot minute before they were jostled apart again.

When Murder by Death took the stage, there was a reverence that fell over the audience. This was who most had come to see. Dean was stunned by their appearance. The lead singer was completely normal looking… in fact, he was wearing a flannel shirt much like a dozen or so that hung in Dean’s own closet. The dude’s guitar was the coolest he’d ever seen – the body cut to look like flames. There was a girl in a yellow dress playing the cello on stage. The haunting and soulful sound they emanated was becoming familiar now, since Cas had already introduced Dean to their songs.

The singers voice was remarkable, fierce and strong and commanding… and their music was enthralling. The cello was the perfect complement to the vocals and the tone of the music. In no time, Dean found himself a disciple of their sound – hands in the air and reveling in the mood created by the music. Some of the songs were familiar enough for Dean to join singing the refrain. Next to him… Cas was singing every word.

When “I’m comin' home” was played, Dean watched Cas’ face swell with emotion as he shouted along…

  
_By the skin of my teeth… I’m coming home_

_By the soles of my feet… I’m coming home_

_I’m riding out the wind… I’m coming home_

_It don’t matter where I’ve been… I’m coming home_

_Crawling on all fours… I’m coming home_

_Turning brick walls into doors… I’m coming home_

_I’m comin' home… but I AINT COMING HOME FOR YOU!_

_I’m comin' home and there’s NOTHING YOU CAN DO!_

 

Dean watched Cas’ face knowing this music really meant something to him. He found himself moving on instinct and not even thinking at all. He joined hands with his lover and held them high as the two pogoed together and screamed themselves hoarse.

In the sweaty jumble of bodies they slowed for an acoustic that Dean was unfamiliar with but Cas clearly loved. He pulled his friend close and buried his face in Cas’ soft, damp hair. He locked his arms tightly around his boy and when the crowd jostled them, they couldn’t be separated. Dean had never felt a sense of belonging as strong as the one he’d been growing to feel with Cas, and this trip had really brought it to his attention.

He knew he’d had feelings for Cas; but tonight he was waking up to how strong they really were. California was a lovely dream and he’d already told Cas he wanted to go along. But he realized now that it could’ve been Siberia and he’d still want to go. It didn’t matter where Cas was headed. Dean was going with. His place was at Cas’ side.

When the show was over, Dean was high as a kite. He spent money he hadn’t planned on just to get them each a t-shirt and then he couldn’t shut up all the way back to the hotel… going on and on to Cas about how much fun he’d had today. The drive, the game, the show, all of it.

“Seriously, Cas, there’s something about that dude’s voice… it’s a little creepy… but it’s also strong and deep and it’s like every song is a story. I liked it on your playlist. But live? It was fan-fucking-tastic!”

Cas was lit up – watching Dean embrace his scene and his music was thrilling. He was really starting to lose his shit for this guy. They were both sweaty and wiped their faces off on their shirts as they walked. Dean smiled as he thought about the contents of his bag back at the room.He’d bought and packed lube as well as some candles he’d snuck from Mary’s linen closet.

From the moment they’d decided to come on this trip he’d been thinking it was the perfect time for them to take that next step and go all the way. This way, it could happen in a soft bed with clean sheets, not in a stinky barn on a bed of hay. Also, they wouldn’t have to keep quiet here to avoid discovery. The candles may be a bit cheesy, but he didn’t care. He wanted it to be special for them.

When they entered the hostel, there was a small crowd in the game room. They bypassed it though, heading upstairs. With a simple nod they agreed on a shower and grabbed their things. They locked themselves in the community bathroom down the hall and took their first shower together. Dean had his eyes on Cas the entire time, but a knock at the door reminded them that there were others waiting.

Back in their room, they stepped into sleep pants and toweled hair. Cas wasn’t paying much attention to Dean as he moved about getting ready for bed. But when Dean flicked the light switch and plunged the room into warm candle light, Cas swung his large eyes to Dean. He crossed the room and pressed Dean up against the wall, eyes dark and heavily lidded.

“Dean…” he whispered as he pressed his soft and puffy lips to Dean’s.

“Castiel,” he answered quietly into his lover’s ear, “you don’t even know… the things I’m gonna let you do to me tonight.”

Bare chested they pressed together and began shifting towards the bed. Dean ran his hands slowly and firmly down Cas’ sculpted back and hooked his thumbs in the elastic waist of his boy’s soft flannel pants. With a deep growl of desire Dean drug the elastic band down over the curve of perfect ass cheeks and felt goosebumps rise up in the wake of his touch. He loosened his grip then and let them slip the rest of the way down on their own, piling on the floor at Cas’ feet. He felt butterflies flutter up in his chest as Cas mimicked his movements and by the time their bodies tumbled into bed they were both naked.

Dean had never felt so right with anyone before… so completely at ease… so certain of what they were feeling for each other. His hands roamed freely over Cas’ form and he felt Cas doing the same. Dean loved the feeling of Cas’ strong thigh as it slid between his knees. This time, Dean didn’t work his cock into a position next to Cas’. He surrendered completely – letting Cas take the lead. He allowed himself to be rolled and was soon facing the window with strong arms holding him from behind and a hard cock pressed against his ass.

Dean couldn’t help it – again his body was moving without his conscious thought. His back arched of its own volition and his ass pushed back against Cas’ dick… he felt sexy as he did it too. He smiled, loving the sound of Cas moaning behind him. His lovers hand was on his hip and tracing the lines of it as Dean began a slow grind – teasing the boy behind him with all that he was going to give him tonight.

“Dean,” Cas whispered in his ear, “I want you.”

His heart was hammering in his ribcage as Cas’ strong arm tightened around Dean’s chest, embracing him tightly.

“Fuck me Cas,” he whispered back. Soft kisses were being licked onto the back of his neck and at his words Dean felt his lover inhale deeply, his nose pressed into Dean’s hair.

“Dean, you don’t even know what you do to me…”

The tension was thick as Dean laid in Cas’ arms. A moment passed with them in perfect stillness. And then Dean leaned forward and reached out… stretching across the bed and pulling out the bottle he’d stashed in the nightstand. Relaxing back into Cas’ arms again he pressed it into the boy’s hands.

“I’m ready. I want you too. Just… don’t hurt me ok? I’ve never done this before.”

Cas took the bottle gently from Dean’s hands and softly said, “Thank you for trusting me Dean.”

He set the bottle aside and resumed kissing Dean’s neck. Slowly, he wiggled his body down the bed as his lips followed the long line of Dean’s spine. He moved lower and lower until he was pushing Dean onto his stomach so he could spread his cheeks apart and sink his warm, wet tongue between them.

Dean’s dick grew harder under him as Cas teased his entrance with kitten licks and traced the lines of his cheeks with finger tips. Soon Dean found himself flexing and rocking and humping into the mattress as an eager mouth worked him over from behind. He pushed his arms under himself and wrapped them around a pillow, hoisting himself up onto forearms and arching his back.

Cas was running hands up and down his flanks and mumbling dirty talk into his skin as he worked his tongue in and out of Dean’s hole, alternating between thrusting it in and circling the bud. As Dean got more worked up, Cas pushed his legs farther apart and Dean found himself working to spread as wide as he could – making a show out of offering himself up to his man.

Cas couldn’t keep calm as Dean laid himself bare. Breath was coming in pants as he worked and each time he pressed his tongue into Dean he felt the tight rings of muscle clench and it sent shivers up his spine. His dick was aching to enter and it hung heavy between his legs as Dean writhed beneath his mouth.

Unable to deny himself any longer, he sat up on his haunches and popped open the cap on the bottle, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. He ran two fingers through the puddle and then traced them down Dean’s crack from top to bottom.

Dean let out a filthy moan and reached beneath his body to fist his own cock. Cas watched as Dean worked himself and then he reached in with a palm full of slick and took hold of his lover, spreading lube easily up and down the shaft, bumbling over Deans own fingers – wetting those too.

Dean has such a nice cock. Cas has held it more times than he can count; he’s licked it and sucked it and jacked it and pressed his tongue into the tip. He has swallowed for this boy and worked him over within an inch of his life… pulse pounding and voice hoarse from begging for more. He’ll never get enough. But tonight, he holds it and looks at it from behind as he sinks a wetted finger into Dean’s waiting hole and he knows how over whelming it is to be gripped like this and fingered too. It’s no surprise to Cas when Dean calls out his name and drops his head to the pillow he’s holding. Dean lets go completely now and just leaves it all to Cas.

He sets to jacking Dean, letting the angle work for him so that Dean’s balls are bumped on the upstroke each time. He wiggles his fingers around until he finds the spot that makes Dean’s body clench and his mouth curse. He can’t close his eyes to the spectacle before him as Dean loses himself in pleasure and begs for more; declares Cas the only one… the only one there will ever be.

He watches greedily as he pushes another finger in. The dirty, gritty feeling is a sign that he needs more lube, so he pulls his hand away from Dean’s dripping dick and grabs the lube bottle, positioning it at the top of Dean’s crack and drizzling it down, letting it run over his fingers as he draws them back and then pushes them forward again. And again. And again.

Dean’s babbling now, telling Cas how ready he is and how much he wants it… how no one’s ever done this to him before… how he never wants to stop.

“I need you, Cas,” he cries out into the sheets.

“I know,” he says firmly as he drops the bottle and takes Dean’s cock in hand again, “I need you too Dean.”

Cas is no fool. He knows what all this means. Dean is in love with him. What they’re doing may be dirty and crass… but underneath the wanton desire is love and trust. No matter how good someone feels… there’s reservations, there’s holding back. But to lose yourself with someone the way Dean is with him… it’s not just a fuck. It’s so much more.

Yes, Cas is about to fuck Dean Winchester. But he’s also about to make love to him. Even though neither of them will speak the words or acknowledge their meaning, the reality is undeniable. They love each other.

Cas abandons Dean’s cock for his own, slicking it as he strokes it and getting it as wet as he can. As he does, his eyes never leave the prize. The small clenching hole that’s stretched wide over three fingers and spreading wider to accommodate the fourth one that he’s adding.

“Oh god!” screams Dean, “Oh god, yes!”

Cas presses forward then, letting himself look as his angry red tip as he lines it up. He slowly pulls his fingers out and pushes the head forward. Dean braces himself and grits his teeth expecting pain. There’s pressure as Cas puts weight behind the action and the two both feel it as the moment stretches out – puckered hole resisting the push – until it can’t anymore. With a soft pop, Cas pushes past the ring and can’t hold back the gurgling noise that rips from his throat as he sinks into heaven.

It’s so tight… he has to hold his breath to keep from crying out. When he finally breathes, he finds his breath coming in short bursts. The pressure on his cock is so constricting he can barely stand it… but he can’t stop either.

Dean is panting beneath him too… face down in the sheets and he’s making the sweetest little sounds… “Ah…. Ah…. Cas… Ah… Don’t… Ah… Stop… Ah… Don’t. Stop. Don’t Stop.”

It’s broken and garbled and then there’s a hush over them both as Cas bottoms out. There’s nothing but the sounds of broken breathing for a moment as they both adjust to how this feels.

Cas can feel his heart beat everywhere… it’s pounding in his ears, its throbbing in his tender cock, it’s pulsing through his veins and it’s all to the rhythm of Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean.

Summoning the will to move, Cas begins to back out. But he only makes it an inch. He feels Dean clench beneath him; he feels his boy panic.

“Cas?” he asks as he freezes, “Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Cause it kinda feel’s like I’m…” Dean can’t even think how to say it; but it feels like he might be taking a shit. The thought terrifies him.

Cas knows what Dean’s referring to. He knows how strange the sensation is the first time you feel it. “Yes, Dean,” he says quietly with as much reassurance as he can muster, “This is how it feels. It’s strange at first, but give it a chance okay? I think you’ll like it when you get used to it.”

Dean nods beneath him and Cas watches his back relax a little. As he draws the rest of the way out, he forces himself to focus. He takes the bottle in his hand again and drizzles shiny wetness onto his thick dick as it comes slowly back out, inch by inch.

When at last, he can start moving in again, he feels the difference of the extra lube. Dean is tight, but now slick and he watches the boy beneath him shudder as he pushes forward again. It’s slow progress, pulling in and out at this speed. It’s divine torture for Cas. But it’s a necessary evil if he wants Dean to enjoy their sex. He won’t rush Dean… won’t give him more than he can handle.

Cas continues to over-use the lube and Dean’s ass is slick with it; they’re dripping it onto the sheets. But as Cas patiently works his lover over, Dean begins to respond. Cas sees the set of his shoulders drop and feels it when Dean starts pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts slow and deep. Breathing rhythmically and forcefully. Dean’s ready for more now.

Cas picks up the pace a little, abandoning the bottle and laying hands to Dean’s hips. The more they move, the more firmly he grips. He’s transfixed on the sight of his cock disappearing into the fiery red hold that’s stretched tight around him and each time his balls press to the backside of Dean he feels his friend push back a little harder.

It’s an aching slow build. But it’s a build. And as they move, Cas changes his angle a few times until he finds the right spot. He can tell he’s hit it when Dean’s head snaps up and he sucks in a deep and ragged breath. Knowing he’s in the right spot, Cas picks up the pace even more and listens to his lover as Dean begins really talking to him. “Oh Cas, fuck!” Dean calls.

“Dean, yes” he answers.

“Fuck me Cas, fuck me…” Dean starts chanting and it brings a smile to Cas’ lips as he begins to let go and really let himself enjoy it. He falls forward over Deans back, palm to the mattress, and reaching his free hand around to fist Dean’s swinging dick as they thrust. His stomach is swirling with pleasure and it begins shifting lower with each push. He feels it coming… it’s only a few pumps and then… “Dean!” he calls as he feels the rush of his body climaxing.

“Cas!” his boy answers as his sensitive dick responds to Cas’ heavy stroking.

They both lock up and Cas drops his other hand to the bed to support himself as he feels the twisting in his stomach; the swirling pleasure that’s been sinking gradually lower and has finally dropped low to burst from his tip. As he fills his lover from behind, he can feel Dean clenching around him as he unloads too. Cas let’s himself slide out and moves to the side, pulling Dean over with him to ride out the rest of the aftershocks together;  Cas’ chest pressed against Dean’s sweaty back.

“Uggh,” moans Dean as he comes back to himself enough to notice that he’s lying in his own wet spot.

Euphoria falls over Cas as he curls around Dean and kisses friend's cheek. Dean pushes back from the wet spot and fumbles into a comfortable position, somehow managing to stay caged in Cas’ arms.

No one speaks for a while, but eventually they grow cold and work together to kick back the comforter so they can crawl under the covers. Dean rolls over and so does Cas, falling into the ‘little spoon’ position. As Cas begins to sink down into sleep he smiles and whispers to Dean...

“No chores in the morning.”

Dean chuckles behind him and says, “I can’t even imagine not getting up for chores. What will we do in Cali all day if there’s no chores?”

Cas presses his bare ass back into Dean’s spent cock and assures the boy that they’ll think of some way to pass the time.

As Dean’s drifting off to sleep, his mind is spinning with thoughts of how it will be in California. Afternoons spent by the water… nights between the sheets… nothing but happiness ahead for them… and only a few weeks until these dreams become reality.

The next morning, Dean wakes with a startle. Cas pokes his head up to see what’s wrong and Dean drops back to the pillow, “I’m fine… just forgot where I was…” and then he’s back to snoring. When they wake for real, it’s to exploring fingers. They’re in no hurry to check out – stroking each other and laying swollen lips to bedwarm skin. The air between them is heavy with anticipation for the coming days when they will always wake up like this.

The boys take their second shower together and gorge on a giant breakfast before leaving the hostel. The weather is perfect for driving – cool and overcast. Cas tells Dean that he’s always liked Chicago and that whether he wants to admit it or not, he’ll probably miss his dad when they’ve headed west.

Dean says the same, admitting it will be Sammy he’ll mist the most. They make plans to sneak the boy out once more before they leave so he can meet up with Ruby.

“She makes him nervous,” laughed Cas, “I can’t get enough of watching her work him over.”

“Yeah, she’s trouble,” nods Dean.

It’s quiet for a few minutes and then Dean says, “Cas, I think it’s weird. Everyone said you were ‘troubled’ when you came here. Both your Dad and mine. But you’re not. Not at all.”

“Yes I am Dean. Just not the way they think. To them, I was ‘troubled’ because I dressed weird. But I wasn’t doing anything you weren’t doing was I? You drink… and smoke… you lip off sometimes… but no one calls you ‘troubled’ because you look normal to them.” Cas turned to stare out the window as he continued. “They think my problem is my friends and my clothes and my music. It’s not. My problem is that my mom died last year. I’m a wreck without her. I’m pissed that she’s gone and I hate the way my Dad is now. Everyone thinks it happened a long time ago and I should be over it by now. But I don’t think I ever will be. I’ll never stop missing her.”

“How did she die?”

“Cancer.”

“I’m sorry,” said Dean honestly. He couldn’t even imagine losing his mom… living without her.

“Let’s talk about something else,” says Cas, “Something fun.”

“Okay,” replies Dean, playing along, “Where are we going in California? It’s a big place. Are you thinking LA?”

“No way,” he laughed as he reached over the backseat and pulled a warm soda out of the cooler. There were still a few in there, floating in the water from yesterday’s ice. “I was thinking somewhere like San Francisco or San Diego.”

“I’ve never lived in a city before.”

“If you don’t like it… we’ll just move,” smiled Cas.

“What do you want to do there?”

“I want to rent a big loft and make myself a studio. I want to spend my days drawing and painting and making weird sculptures out of the trash I find on the beach,” laughed Cas. “I want to just be an artist. I’ll work to pay the rent – but my loft is what I’m looking forward to. I wish I was like you and had a job I was motivated to do… but I don’t.”

“What do you mean? What job am I motivated to do?”

“Thought you were sold on being a cop?”

Dean sighed, “I just said that because it seemed like something I can handle. I made okay grades in school but I’m not really that smart. There’s no way I’m going to be a doctor or an engineer or an architect or something like that. I just need something simple that I can do…”

“What the fuck Dean?” barked Cas, “What do you mean you’re not that smart? You just need something simple?”

“I’m serious Cas. When people started asking me what I wanted to do when I grew up… I had no fucking clue. Policeman, firefighter, whatever. It’s all the same. I just tried to pick something that sounded kind of noble… but would still be kinda fun. That’s what I came up with… being a cop. I’ve been telling people that for a long time. But do I really wanna be a cop? Fuck no. I couldn’t give a shit.”

“Jesus Dean. You’re as bad as me! I don’t know what I wanna be either… not a fucking clue.”

“Bullshit Cas. You wanna be an artist. You just don’t think you can. Even I know that.”

Cas gave Dean a sour look, “I could say the same to you dickwad…”

“Huh?”

“You wanna be a coach.”

“What makes you think I wanna be a coach?”

“I’ve watched you play Dean...”

Dean leaned back and thought about it. The car got quiet as they both lost themselves in their own thoughts. Dean found himself slowing down as they got nearer to home. He didn’t want to go back to the farm. He wanted to skip right over the next two weeks of chores and packing and back-to-school shopping. He wanted to just point the car west and keep driving.

“I can’t wait for California,” he said as he exited the interstate and turned onto the highway that would take them home.

“Two weeks,” said Cas with a smile.

“Yep,” replied Dean with a wink, “just two weeks.”


	11. The Things We'll Leave Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Ravenwolf36 for editing even though she's injured!

The trip had been fun. His parents had sat in the living room with Sam and listened to them recount their experience at the ball game and the show. They showed off the t-shirts they’d bought and passed their phones around so everyone could see the pictures they’d taken at Wrigley Field and at the hostel. John had commented that the hostel was far nicer than what he’d been picturing.

Cas had been the one who arranged for the room, not Mary, and if John was picturing them sharing a room with six or eight other teens traveling on a budget, then who was Dean to correct him? His father didn’t need to know that they’d paid for a private room and shared a bed. Dean smiled to himself as he remembered Cas’ eyes sparkling in the candle light; the feel of his body being explored and penetrated; the feel of Cas moving in him. 

There was a lull in the farm work at this time of year and, as always, Mary used the time to get the school shopping done. She took Sam out a few times, primarily getting his clothes and the things he needed for football. With him in high school, he didn’t need much for supplies anymore.

Dean, on the other hand, needed a lot. He sat at the table and watched his mother making a list based on his housing assignment letter. Aside from clothes and supplies, she wrote down things like pillows, blankets, lamp and mini fridge.

“Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“What would you and dad have said if I had told you that I didn’t want to go to college?”

“Well,” she said, tipping her head to the side as if to ponder the question, “I guess that would’ve depended on what you wanted to do.” Then she leveled a knowing look at her son and said, “What would you have had in mind as an alternative?”

“I don’t know. Just asking I guess.”

“If you have second thoughts about school, you should let me know before we drop you off there,” she said teasingly. There was a smile on her face, but Dean could see that there was an underlying note of truth to her words.

“What did it take?” he asked her, “How much have you guys spent to get me set up there?”

“Not much, as of now,” she said quietly.

“You guys just kind of took care of everything for me. I don’t even know what was involved…” his voice trailed off. He could feel tension in the air and had to attribute it to his mother being able to see through his casual manner to the real question beneath.

“Dean the process is actually simple. It’s just time consuming. You already knew what program you were interested in, and that’s usually the hardest part. We submitted an application – I’m sure you remember because you helped with that.”

Dean nodded and waited for her to continue.

“We completed a FAFSA, which is an application for government aid with school expenses. When your application was approved we filled out your registration paperwork for classes and the school processed your FAFSA approval. You qualified for some grant money… free money to cover most of your tuition. Then the balance of your tuition and the costs of your dorm were added up and that balance will be paid with federal student loans. You have to actually attend classes for a certain period of time before the government releases the funds. So even though everything is taken care of on paper – technically no money has changed hands yet. I mean,” she said pointedly, “You haven’t actually borrowed any money yet.”

There was a pregnant pause during which Dean swallowed hard.

“It’s not too late to change your mind if that’s what you’re considering Dean.”

“Thanks mom,” he said as he pushed back from the table and got to his feet.

“What are you thinking of Dean?” she asked as he turned to leave.

“M’not sure yet,” he told her honestly.

“Let me know soon,” she said as she stood up and walked to the fridge. Dean watched her hang his list up with a magnet. They’d been planning on going shopping the following afternoon as soon as he’d finished with chores. But that next day when chores were finished, the lunch plates were cleared and she made no mention of shopping. Dean, thrilled to be let off the hook so easily, pounded up the stairs to his room to lay on his bed and think.

Down the hall, Cas was doing the same. In recent weeks he'd been worried about the way Dean treated him around Benny. It had been cause for concern because even when Benny had become aware of their secret – Dean had still kept up the pretenses. He treated Cas like a friend, not a lover, in Benny’s presence. Increasingly Cas had fretted that even in Cali – where they didn’t have to keep secret anymore – Dean would still hide what they were from the public. But the whole point of Cali was freedom… he wasn’t sure he wanted to be someone’s dirty little secret there. Not even for Dean.

But, the trip they'd taken had easily wiped away his fears. Dean had been very free with is affection when they’d been in Chicago. Cas had been pleasantly surprised when Dean had pecked his cheek while they toured Wrigley field. He’d been thrilled when Dean had tossed his arm around the back of Cas’ seat in the seventh inning, and at the club… Dean had been all over him. Cas no longer had to nurse fears about Dean’s possible resistance to a public relationship.

His mind, at this point, was simply spinning with all the questions that would answer themselves with time. Where would they go when they arrived on the coast? How long would it take them to find a place to live? Would Dean be satisfied with the kind of work he’d get? How would things be with their families when they actually left town?

Most of the summer, as he'd nurtured bitter feelings towards his father, he’d been imagining his dad’s reaction to finding Cas’ bed empty and a note on his pillow. It had given him pleasure to think of the pain his father would feel at his unplanned departure. He considered it payback for all the pain he’d felt as a result of his father’s disapproving nature. The man had dished out some heavy lectures about Cas’ clothing and the way he presented himself, as well as the ‘unsavory’ company he kept.

But now, having seen his father in a new light, he had began to feel guilty for those those thoughts. His father had been hard on him for his life choices, sure, but it came from a good place. It came from wanting to raise his son right. It came from love. Being here at Winchester Farms had given him some separation from his father – some distance which had brought clarity. So had admiring John Winchester – especially when he realized how alike his father and John really were. Also, since their phone call, he’d been feeling warm in his chest for his father. He couldn’t deny how much he loved the man. And how much he was loved. His father would die for him, without a doubt. How could he kick him when he’s down? His wife just died and now his son will abandon him? Leave him alone? The thought it was abhorrent. 

When Sam knocked on his door asking if he felt like playing video games, he went happily and was glad for the distraction. As he crossed the hall, he tried not to notice Dean’s closed bedroom door.

It was later that night, when Dean knocked lightly on his door for their nightly smoke in the silo, that Cas decided to bring up some of his concerns. He sat on the cool cement and looked up towards the top of the silo. The moon was full outside and its light was passing through the slats at the top. As he gazed upward, Cas watched the dust motes spin in the shafts of moon light as they filtered diagonally across the dark, empty space.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“When you picture us leaving for Cali… how do you see it playing out?”

“I don’t know," sighed Dean, flicking a flame from his lighter. "I should be asking you that… this is your big plan. I’m just tagging along.”

Cas nodded as he watched his friend tip his head forward and bring flame to the end of a carelessly rolled joint. Pulling his legs to his chest, Cas admitted his uncertainty. “Dean," he said, "at first, I wasn’t going to tell my dad shit. When I started planning to go to Cali… I was planning to _run away_ to Cali. Like, literally, leave a fucking note and just go. I was so mad at my dad that I couldn’t wait to give him the big ‘Fuck you’. But now, I’m starting to see things differently. I’m starting to actually see his side of everything. He doesn’t mean to hurt me. Never did. He just doesn’t know how to be what I need. He’s been drowning in his own pain… and when it comes to parenting… he’s just doing the best he can without my mom. He’s less without her – and so am I.” 

Dean didn’t look at Cas but it was obvious that he was hanging on every word. When Cas had paused, Dean brought the joint to his mouth and inhaled slowly rather than speak. Then, he passed the smoke to Cas. Letting their fingers brush as he accepted it, Cas waited for Dean to speak. He inhaled deeply and let his eyes wander over to the tiny little square that they crawl through to enter this place. It revealed a bit of the outside world and he focused his attention there in the long silence that followed. It was becoming clear that Dean was waiting to hear more before offering any opinions. So, reluctantly, Cas began to speak again.  “When she died," he admitted, "she took part of me with her. I’ll never be the same. I’m never going to be a whole person again either – because part of me went into the fucking ground with her.”

His throat grew constricted as he spoke, and Cas flicked his eyes to Dean as he felt a tear spill over and run down his cheek. Thankfully, Dean had averted his eyes. He can feel the air change, though, as Dean becomes aware that he's starting to fall apart. Cas held his shaky hand up to his mouth and inhaled again, waiting for the weed to do it's job and set him at ease. As he exhaled, he felt Dean moving to embrace him. When Dean's arm wrapped around his shoulders, Cas let his heavy head drop to his friends shoulder and let it rest there. “And now,” he continued, feeling reassured, "now that I understand my dad's feeling it too, I don't want to hurt him anymore. I feel sorry for him now. There's no way I can just leave a note and ditch him... go live my dream while I rip another piece of his fucking heart out.”

“We’re not gonna do that Cas. We’re not,” said Dean firmly, “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I think we're gonna have to just talk to them. We have to explain what we’re doing... come clean about all of it and ask them to be okay with it.”

“They won’t be,” mumbled Cas into Dean’s soft t-shirt.

“I know,” he sighed.

The next day after lunch, Mary invited Dean to go for a ride. They hadn’t gone horseback riding in years so Dean figured his mom was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Riding together would recapture an old memory because they used to ride together a lot when he was younger. A ride would also give them uninterrupted time alone and allow her to talk to him again about school. Perhaps she’d told his father about their discussion at the table the other night; perhaps not. He nodded his agreement to the ride and glanced over at Cas. Answering the unasked question in his friends eyes, Dean said, “Horseback riding, Cas.”

“Oh,” gasped Mary from the stove, “How silly of me! All summer you’ve been on the farm and none of us has taken you riding! Would you like to try it?”

“Yes!” enthused Cas brightly.

“Alright then,” said Mary with a smile, “we've only got two horses, but when Dean and I get back, you and Sam can go out for a ride.”

When they ambled out of the barn, Mary on her own horse and Dean riding Johns, they started down the wide lane towards the highway.

“Lovely day for a ride,” commented his mother. The packed gravel of the driveway gave of a muted clacking sound as it was struck by horse hooves and Mary's mount had ears perked forward and head held high, chomping at the bit and eager to be out of the pasture. Dean, however, was riding John's horse which plodded along, obviously bored and lollygagging, already starting to fall behind. 

“Yep,” agreed Dean, beginning whistle. He knew they were meant to talk. But he also knew his mom wanted to enjoy the ride for a bit before they sank into a heavy conversation.

They rode mostly in silence, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, green grass and gentle breeze. Singing birds added to the cheerfulness of the summer day while the low hum of insects droned on in the background. When they got to the highway, they crossed carefully and followed a fence that divided two fields belonging to a neighbor. The grass was tall here – chest high on the horses. To the left was a corn field, tall and green. Even on horseback they weren't tall enough to see over the thick plants, floppy yellow tassels at the top of each. They could hear the rubbery squeak of the stalks rubbing together in the gentle breeze, and the whisper of their wide leaves tickling one another. To their right was a fence and on the other side of it was a soybean field. It wasn't nearly as tall as the corn, but the bushy plants were much bigger now than they'd been just a few weeks ago when Bobby, Ellen and Jo had joined them on the bean bar. Moving down the lane, Dean watched the perfect rows as he passed them, the dirt between them no longer visible now that the plants had grown wide enough to obscure it. A vast sea of bright green leaves, neat and even, stretched out before him – almost a mile to the other end where the next county blacktop cut between fields. 

As they walked along, Mary’s horse pulled out ahead a bit, ears still pricked forward and interested in their destination. John’s old gelding just plodded along with a ‘been there done that’ kind of attitude. Dean squeezed his bowed legs together a bit, hoping the pressure would coax his father’s lazy horse into a faster gait.

Just when the warm sun was bringing a sheen of sweat to the back of Dean’s neck, he saw the tree line approaching. They turned as they approached the grove of mature trees and fell into shadow as they skirted along the edge of it. The horses seemed to like the shade and John’s horse occasionally dipped his head to snatch a mouthful of the tall green grass they were treading through. Mary pulled up a bit to ride side-by-side with Dean, and when she did, he knew it was time talk.

“Been thinking about school?”

He’d known this was coming. “Yes.”

“What are your thoughts?”

Dean decided to just do it. Get it over with. Be honest. “It’s a waste of time and money mom. I don’t want to be a cop.”

“What do you want to be?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “M’not sure I even know. I just said I wanted to be a cop because I never knew what to say when people asked me. But I have no clue what I really want to be, mom. Cas thinks I wanna be a coach.”

“I think you’d make a wonderful coach, Dean.”

“Thanks mom. I do like the idea. But I'm not sure if I can really do it, or if I really want to. Maybe it just sounds better than being a cop.”

“You know, you don’t have to have the answer to the big question right now. School takes years. Two, three, four or more depending on what you’re doing. We could just change your major from Criminial Justice to Undecided. That would give you some time to think about things... see what interests you.”

“That’s a good idea Mom. But what if I wanted to take some time before school? Travel some? What would you think of that?”

She smiled. The canopy of trees overhead would occasionally let a small beam of sunshine through and when it did, it lit up her blond hair in gold. “It takes money to travel, Dean. Have you thought of that? Of where you’d want to go and how you’d pay to get there?”

“Kind of. But I don’t know if my expectations are realistic.”

“Tell me…” she said firmly, “I’ll try to be impartial.”

Dean didn’t know if it was okay to tell her about Cas’ dream of California. He didn’t know how secret that was and was reluctant to speak for his friend. Instead, he made it sound as if this were his plan only. He didn’t even bring up Cas’ name. Yet.

“I’d like to take the Impala and go on a road trip. I’ve saved some money over the last few weeks and I’d like to head west. I want to see California. I’ll get a job when I run out of money and work until I have enough to move on. When I get there I’ll stop.”

“So,” said Mary sagely, “This road trip would be a one-way trip? No return ticket? Because it sounds like you’re saying that you want to move to California.”

“I’m not saying that I want to,” said Dean – stunned by how easily she’d summed up what he’d been ruminating on for days, “I’m just saying I’m thinking about it. When I ask myself what I want to do… that’s what comes to mind.”

Again, Mary nodded. She gave nothing away. She could give his father a run for his money on poker faces. “I think that sounds lovely. I can understand why it calls to you.”

“You can?”

“Absolutely. It’s beautiful… it’s exciting… it’s far away. If I was your age – it would appeal to me too.”

Dean rode on for a bit in silence, waiting for her to bury his dream under a pile of logic and parental caution. But she didn’t speak. They came to the end of the grove of trees and moved back into full sun. Just to keep up with her, Dean had to nudge his father’s horse into a trot.

“What are you thinking mom?” he asked as he bounced up beside her, “I can’t tell.”

She pulled to a stop and looked him square in the eye as he did the same. “I’m thinking about how much I’m going to miss you,” she said with wet eyes. If they weren’t on horseback, he’d have hugged her. But they were. So he reached out his arm and touched her shoulder lightly, “This is your chance to tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t go.”

“That’s your father’s job,” she said as she turned her teary eyes away from him, “My job is to tell you to follow your dreams – even if they take you far from me.”

He had to hand it to his parents. They both knew their roles. As Dean stared at his dinner plate that evening, he pushed his potatoes around and tried not to argue with his father. The man laid it out for him. First of all, if Dean blew off college for a road trip, he’d likely never actually go to college at all. He’d wind up marrying some skank he'd banged on the road and knocked up. They’d live in a trailer together in the middle of nowhere and Dean would never amount to anything. Secondly, even if he survived the road without knocking someone up, the odds of him being able to make it on his own were slim. He’d most likely find himself calling home them and asking for money just to get back because he’d become stranded somewhere. Third, he’d already made a decision on schools and been through the paper work… why couldn’t Dean have come to them with this sooner… before they’d made all the arrangements?

Dean looked across the table at Cas. He could see the boy wanting to come to his aid – but also knowing his place. This wasn’t his argument. Sammy was turning his head back and forth like he was watching a volleyball match as he followed their fathers dialog with Dean – and the occasional input from Mary.

In the end, nothing was decided and Dean found himself watching his mother put away the dinner leftovers. He saw her face fall as she opened the fridge and had to look past the list she’d made for their school shopping.

Later, in the living room, John muted the TV on a commercial and said, “Dean, son, what is your plan?”

“I don’t have one,” he confessed.

“Well, that was your one chance to convince me you didn’t have your head up your ass. Well done.” And with that bit of dry sarcasm hanging in the air, John unmuted the TV and got up from his chair. Dean never saw him again that night.

Later, as they crossed the yard in the moonlight, Dean looked at Cas and tipped his head towards the barn. It was a silent invitation to the hayloft. Cas turned to follow. They moved quietly through the door. Dean could hear the animals stirring a little at the intrusion and then it was quiet again. They ascended the ladder and the wall of hay bales. Together they crawled along the top and flopped down into their makeshift bed. There was no talking, only sweet breath exhaled on cheeks and necks as they rolled together and twined into one another. T-shirts came off overhead and soft butt cheeks popped out of the elastic waist bands of flannel sleep pants. The prickle of the hay under them was a far cry from the comfort of their bed in Chicago… or even the backseat of Dean’s precious baby. But they cared nothing for the comfort of anything but each other’s arms. As Dean fumbled himself between Cas’ legs and began working his lips down Cas’ smooth chest, he whispered how much he’d missed the taste of his lovers skin and how hard it was to sleep in a bed alone when Cas was just a few doors down.

Cas spread his legs for Dean and he sank low to put his mouth on his boy's package. He felt fingers in his hair… his lover's desperate attempt to clench hold of him which was always thwarted by short locks. A chuckle formed in Dean's chest because he knew it was impossible to get a handful of his hair, but Cas never stopped trying. As his fingernails scraped at Dean’s scalp, he heard his lover moan and then speak.

“C’mon Dean,” Cas begged, “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

“You know I do,” he whispered against Cas’ thigh as he licked and bit a line to the boys knee and back again. If Dean were honest, he’d simply say that he wasn’t looking forward to fucking Cas much. It was a daunting task. Dean had never been allowed ‘in the back door’ with any of his previous lovers. He had begged and they had all turned him down. Now that he’d been fucked by Cas, he realized how much there was too it. And to say that he had performance anxiety was an understatement. He couldn’t stand the thought of Cas having to give him instructions from beneath as Dean stumbled through it.

He’d made himself a promise to look up some gay porn and view it for research. He wanted to watch it and become more comfortable with the process before he attempted to actually be the one on top… the one running the show. But the fear of discovery had thus far kept him from following through on that. He cared nothing for typing regular porn into the search bar and deleting his history. If he were ever discovered it would be embarrassing, yes, but perfectly normal for a guy his age. If he were discovered searching gay porn? Ugh. He couldn’t even think it.

Dean let his tongue drag along the inside of Cas’ thigh all the way to the top and then he closed his mouth to wet it again before licking a stripe up the back of his friends cock. It was tall and proud and even in the dark, he could make out the glorious shape of it just by feel. The image appeared behind his eyelids and he had to put his hand on his own junk to press back against the desire that pooled there… aching for relief.

“Want you so much Cas,” he said before he started sucking dick in earnest. Cas’ breath was picking up and his leg was twitching as Dean worked him over. This. Giving head. He was good at this. He was proud at what he could do. So, despite the growing ache in the pit of his stomach, he rolled over and passed on the opportunity to fuck into Cas’ puckered hole and blow his load. He, instead, guided Cas’ head low and worked them both into an easy sixty-nine position.

With garbled words and swallowed moans, they pleasured one another. Dean loved the feeling of Cas’ perfectly soft and round ass cheeks clenching under his hands as he spread them apart and flicked a finger over his boy’s sensitive entrance. Pulling off the cock in his mouth, he sucked his own finger for a moment before getting back to Cas’ thick dick. Then, as he worked his mouth over his boy’s hot tip, he shoved that wet finger in and heard a broken sob rise up from Cas’ mouth. Dean missed his lovers mouth immediately when the boy popped off to cry out. He focused his attention on working his finger in and out of Cas as he searched for the good spot. He as getting better at it and he knew it.

When Cas started whispering Dean’s name, that’s when he pulled out all the stops. He retracted his finger completely and left the boy wanting. He was counting in his head though, letting seconds go by just to add to the suspense. He knew from suffering this same torture at Cas’ hands that the waiting was good. When the moment finally came it would be so much better for having suffered the want of it.

Dean licked Cas between his legs, over his sack and behind it. He pushed his elbow roughly into the prickly hay to gain another inch so he could get his tongue back far enough to trace the crack before he finally plunged his finger back in hard and deep while keeping one fist on the shaft, jacking hard and fast. Cas cried out and painted his chin, neck and shoulders with hot cum.

A few moments passed as Cas was coming down and Dean had taken to jacking himself off in a desperate attempt to come. Soon enough though, Cas seemed to come out of his bliss and return his attention to Dean. He leaned in and shoved Dean's hands out of the way, taking Dean's needy cock into his mouth and sucking down hard. He shoved down hard too, forcing Dean's tip harshly to the back of his throat where it bumped again and again as Cas bobbed up and down on him vigorously. Even the sounds being made were obscene and when he felt his climax coming, Dean went ahead and clamped his hands down on Castiel's head, holding him in place as Dean burst from his tip and pulsed down his boy's throat. Cas drank it up too... swallowing it down and groaning as Dean shot his load. Dean had learned to swallow too and he loved it despite his distaste for jizz, getting off on the sheer raunchiness of the act itself. Taking a load to the face had become equally scintillating to him and he'd often push himself to lick a little of it because he remembered how much he'd enjoyed seeing Cas do the same.

A few minutes went by before they were composed enough to rearrange themselves into a comfortable position. In the dark, Dean accidentally clunked Cas with his knee and they both giggled as they brought their heads together. Cas kissed Dean’s cheek and loved the stubble there. It was rough under his lips and sent a shiver down his spine. They wouldn’t lay here for long… it wasn’t that comfortable naked. But they’d take a few minutes to linger in their afterglow. Eventually, as they found the will to pull their pants and t-shirts back on, they started talking.

“Your dad never really said one way or the other… didn’t really give an answer… what is he thinking? Can you tell?”

“Exactly what he said,” chuckled Dean, “the man’s not a riddle. He say’s what he means. He said I have my head up my ass and he meant it.”

“How are you, Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how are you feeling? Has their reaction changed your mind or do you still want to go?”

“Oh yeah…” said Dean thoughtfully as he turned toward Cas in the dark, “You didn’t hear what mom said.”

“What did she say?”

“That I should follow my dream.”

“That’s… surprising…” said Cas softly.

“No. It’s not.”

“So, you’re still in?”

“Oh I’m in…” Dean whispered as he rolled into Cas and embraced him, “I’m all the way in.”

.


	12. Summer's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ravenwolf36 for editing and title!

The following week, Deacon was due to arrive to pick up Cas. He’d called on Thursday evening to make the arrangements with John and when the two had finished talking, the phone was handed to Cas. The conversation this time was much less stilted. When his father asked him how he’d been, he had good things to tell him. He talked about spraying beans, horseback riding with Sam, swimming at the quarry, going to Dean’s ball games and even going to the Murder by Death show. He simply glossed over the fact that they’d been in Chicago to avoid hurt feelings. His dad told him about things he’d been up to as well. Among other things, he’d been looking at possible cars for Cas. They discussed the specifics of the money Cas had saved up and what kind of car he’d like to have.

Cas went out on a limb and told his dad that he’d been thinking he might wait on the car purchase. Of course this led to questions, but Cas squashed them all by answering vaguely and then saying they could discuss it in more detail when they were all together on Sunday. When he’d hung up, he considered the conversation a success because he’d managed to implant his father with the notion that purchasing a car may not be the end game of Cas’ summer savings after all.  He figured it would be good to give his father some time getting used to that idea. The fact that they’d once again ended the call with endearments also left him feeling satisfied.

When he’d hung up, he’d looked around the empty kitchen. Everyone must’ve wanted to give him his privacy. He headed for the living room, assuming that’s where everyone had gone. However, at the base of the stairs he caught the sounds of adult conversation in place of the television. Hearing his name, he paused to listen for a moment, putting one foot on the bottom stair. Dean and Sam were upstairs already, he was sure of it. From the living room around the corner he heard John and Mary…

“It’s so strange…” Mary was saying softly, “… I really thought they were a good influence on each other. Cas really seemed to come around once the two of them got friendly. And Dean… he was changing too. It’s like his eyes were opened.  But now, there’s this California thing. I’ve never heard Dean even mention it before. Not once. It has to be coming from Cas.”

“Mary, Dean never mentioned a road trip of any kind, not in all the years he was saving for that car. Now all of a sudden he’s road tripping to Chicago? Then as soon as they get back he’s talking about a cross country trip? It’s definitely Cas. No doubt in my mind.” John’s voice was accusatory and Cas’ heart dropped to the floor at the thought of the Winchesters feeling like he’d sullied their son.

“John, I hate the idea of him not going to school in the fall. But honestly, lots of kids do it. Some of them go off back-packing in Europe for a year and then go to college when they get back. Maybe we’re over thinking this. So he wants to take a trip… go to California… is that really so awful? It’s not like he’s passing up a full ride to an Ivy League school. We’re talking about community college… it’ll be here when he gets back.”

“Mary, he ain't gonna come back. He’s gonna get sucked into a life there. He’ll call us, year after year, and say he’s sorry that he can’t afford to make it home for the holidays. We’ll be lucky to see him every few years… I don’t like it.”

“Me either,” she agreed. Cas could practically see the weepy look on her face. He wanted to run in and hug her and tell her never mind… they’d stay here forever and help on the farm and that would just be their life. But instead, he steeled himself and found the strength to listen a bit longer.

“He’s 18 and we can’t stop him,” John conceded. Cas thought he sounded beaten and sad.

“Well, I guess we just put aside some money in a separate account and don’t touch it. We both know sooner or later he’ll call needing it. I just hope that when he does… he’ll use it to come home to us John.”

That was it. Cas could bear no more. He turned to go up the steps and heard the second one creak under his feet. Without the TV on, the house was quiet. He’d been heard, he was sure of it.

“Cas?” called Mary from the other room.

“Yeah?” he answered weakly.

“Can you come out here?”

His shoulders slumped as he turned back towards the bottom of the stairs and then moved around the corner into the living room. Mary’s face was friendly when he looked to her.

“Are you finished on the phone?”

“Yes.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “he says he’ll be here at noon. But I guess you already knew that.”

Mary nodded. Cas hadn’t chanced a look at John. “The boys went upstairs,” she said kindly, “do you need anything?”

He shook his head and tried not to look shaken by what he’d over heard.

“Alright, good night then,” said Mary.

“Good night,” he replied as he backed out of the living room and headed up the stairs. If she’d suspected him of listening to their conversation – she hadn’t shown any indication. He chose not to push his luck by listening further. He went upstairs and found the boys in Sam’s room playing his Zombie game. He said goodnight to them and headed to his room, needing some time to think.

He put in earbuds and listened to music as he laid in the dark. He was still certain he wanted to go to California. And he was still sure that he wanted Dean to come along. Nothing had changed. Except that it had. He had other people to consider now. He realized, in hind-sight, how selfish his original plan to run away really was. Especially when he added Dean to the equation.

John and Mary were not happy about Dean’s possible pilgrimage to the coast. They seemed willing to accept it but they were sick over it. His own father would likely feel the same. All this time Cas had been telling himself that his father wanted him to go to college in Chicago so he could keep an eye on him. He knew better now. His dad just wanted him close. Didn’t want to lose him. Didn’t want to be alone. He and Dean leaving town together would hurt a lot of people.

Cas hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he felt a hand on his leg. He opened his eyes and saw Sam standing there.

“What’s up?” he asked as he sat up and plucked one of his earbuds out.

“Dean went to bed. Thought I’d see if you’re okay… ya know… since you talked to your dad tonight.”

“I’m okay,” he lied, “what time is it?”

“About 10:30. Got a game in ya?”

“You know it,” replied Cas with a grin.

They settled into the bean bags in Sam's room and took up controllers. As they played, Sam talked to Cas about Ruby and about Deacon’s upcoming visit. He said he’d miss having Cas around and Dean too. It was going to be lonely upstairs without them.

Cas encouraged Sam to start having more friends over and reminded him that hanging with friends would get easier when he had the car he was saving for. They talked about unimportant things until Cas caught himself yawning. “I’m heading for bed,” he said as he pushed his controller aside and rolled out of his bean bag.

Just as he was turning to leave, Sam caught him off guard with a blunt question, “Where do you and Dean go at night?”

Cas must’ve looked like a deer caught in headlights, he fumbled as he wondered to himself how much the kid knew. He was smart. Was he on to them?

“We go out to…” he glanced to the hall behind him and lowered his voice, “… to smoke. Don’t tell okay?”

“Okay,” he grinned – seemingly happy to be in on the secret, “Just wondering.”

“Sorry we don’t invite you. I don’t think Dean wants to be responsible for starting you in that habit. Your friends will pull you into it soon enough.”

“No they won’t,” he said, “It’s a filthy habit.”

“Yep, I won’t argue that.”

Cas had barely put on his sleeping clothes and brushed his teeth when Dean stepped out into the hall and motioned towards the stairs. He shook his head in disagreement, “It’s too early,” he whispered. Then he moved past Dean in the hall and headed for his room, the house wasn’t quiet like it usually was when they slipped outside. He didn’t realize Dean was following him until he went to close his door.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure”

They didn’t often sit in each other’s rooms. Probably to avoid suspicion, however unlikely that would have been. “What’s up?” Cas asked him.

“Just felt like hangin' out, and plus, you talked to your dad. Thought I’d see how it went,” said Dean as he folded his legs up on Cas’ bed and began leafing through his sketch book. Cas nodded but didn’t speak, unsure if he should tell Dean what he’d heard on the stairs.

“Your drawings are really amazing Cas,” said Dean honestly as he slowed to stare at a picture of the sign that hung over the entrance to Wrigley Field. Then he turned the page and smiled at a picture of his father on the old tractor. Though the drawing was in pencil it was easy to tell that the sky had been cloudy when the picture was done. The feel of it was a little sad. The following page was a partially completed picture of Mary bending over in her garden. “You draw people so well… you really see them… that’s what’s special about your pictures.”

“I want to draw you so badly, Dean.”

Cas watched Dean’s green eyes snap up to meet his. A half-smile ticked at the corner of his mouth as he said, “Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Don’t want anyone to see it if they look through my book.”

“Why?”

“I feel like they’d be able to tell by looking at my pictures that I…” he dropped his eyes to the bed to avoid Dean’s stare, “… you know…”

“You really think people will be able to tell that we’re fucking by how you draw me?”

“Can you tell how I feel about your mom by looking at my pictures of her?”

Cas had an excellent point. He absolutely could.

“When we get there… to Cali… I’m going to draw you all the time. Whenever I want.”

“Well, make sure you give me a big pecker,” laughed Dean. Cas smiled too and adjusted his pillow so he could lean back on it. He smiled as Dean said, “I can’t wait to get to Cali. Share a place. A bed. I can’t wait to wake up with you every day.”

“Like in Chicago.” Cas said quietly as he took the pad from Dean and began to fill in the shading on a recent picture of their silo.

“Yep,” said Dean, “I can’t wait to start my life with you.”

“Yeah, it’ll be nice. We’ll have like… four, maybe five months before we have to worry about family stuff,” agreed Cas.

“What do you mean? Four or five months?”

“Well, yeah Dean. They’ll want us to visit for Christmas, won’t they?” asked Cas, remembering John’s words about holiday visits.

“I guess so. I hadn’t thought of that at all. Will we go home separately or come home together and try to stay together for the holiday – as friends? They’ll think that’s weird right?”

“You mean because you won’t be out yet? We’ll have been in Cali for all that time and you still won’t be out…” Cas’ voice trailed off.

Dean nodded but his mind was spinning. All this time he’d been thinking of Cali as a ‘happily ever after’. It had escaped his attention that a few short months after getting there… they’d have to come home again. Sleep in separate beds again… pretend to be only friends again. And now that he was thinking about it… there would be phone calls and Facebook updates. Cali was far away. But still, the distance could provide them only a modicum of privacy. He’d still have to be careful about how he spoke of Cas to his family and what they saw in his pictures. It was nauseating. “I’m going to have to tell them, aren’t I?”

Cas didn’t need to ask what Dean was referring to, “Yes, eventually you will Dean. I will too… my dad doesn’t know. But I need to tell him. Otherwise, what good is it for us to get along? Have a good relationship? What will it matter if he doesn’t really know me at all? He’s an ex-Marine. He’s not going to like it. But I’ll have to tell him and soon.”

“Honestly, Cas, I’ surprised you ever hid it from him. I mean, it doesn’t seem like your style.”

“I didn’t,” he laughed, “I never hid it. I had my boyfriend over to the house all the time. I put my arm around him. I called him my boy. I did everything but tongue him in front of my Dad. But his denial is thick. I’m going to have to actually spell it out for him. With… words. Unfortunately.”

“Cas, I’m just gonna lay this on ya. You’re not gonna like hearing me say it, but I’ve got to just be honest.”

“Okay,” he replied tentatively as he put down his pencil - wondering how destructive Dean’s next sentence was going to be for both of them.

“I don’t want to tell them.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. Right now, I’m Dean _fucking_ Winchester. That means something around here. If I tell everyone that I’m gay… it’s going to change the way they see me. And I _like_ the way they see me. I don’t know that I can give it up… don’t know if I want to. I understand that I’m living a lie… but I’ve been living it for so long now that it feels like me… the only time it doesn’t is when I’m with you”

Red flags immediately went up for Cas, his heartbeat began a steady escalation as he waited on the edge of a knife to hear Dean say that he preferred the old life… the one without Cas in it.

Dean took a deep breath and finally looked at Cas again, saw the hurt and confusion that his friend was desperately trying to hide. “This isn’t coming out right. It’s really just… I’ve worked hard to create this version of myself and I like it. I kind of wish this was the real me. It’d be so much easier. Now, if I come out, I’ll have to let people see that I’ve been lying to everyone all this time. I’ll have to admit that I’m not what I pretended to be. I’ll have to get to know everyone all over again. And then… well… what if no one actually likes the real me? It’s not even just about my friends and stuff. I’m talking about my dad… and… Sammy…” he brushed a tear from his eye and hated how weak he was, “What if they don’t like the real me?”

“Look Dean, I hear you. I do. And like I said before – I will never pressure you to come out. You have to do that when you’re ready. You have to do it for you. Not for me or for anyone else. You.”

Dean nodded, wondering where it was that Cas learned to be this incredible person. How had he gotten to be so comfortable with himself? So sure of himself?

As Dean was marveling at Cas’ strength and surety, he had no idea how hard his friend was working to keep up the pretenses. Cas was forcing the words out – the ones he knew he _should_ say. But to say them and pretend he had no vested interest in the outcome was a performance worthy of an Oscar. He’d die if Dean called this off. If Dean walked away from him now? Opted out of California? Told Cas they should go back to just being friends? Even the threat of it was more than he could bear.

His dream had been an artist’s life in California; and that dream had formed before he’d even known Dean. But now, with Dean having pushed his way into that dream, Cas had gotten too cozy with it. He was looking forward to more than just the sparkling waters of the Pacific and the accepting culture of the west coast. Dean was part of the picture now… freckles warming in the sunshine, big green eyes eating up the city with their curiosity and a smart mouth supplying endless sarcastic comments at the art Cas would drag him to see. No, California would not be the same now. Not without Dean.

Cas forced his mind to abandon his pessimistic thoughts and return fully to the situation at hand. He looked at the nakedness of Dean’s face. This boy who had kept up all pretenses as policy – but had learned to put himself on the line and show Cas all of his insecurities. It was trust, and Cas would not betray it. He summoned the best encouragement he could think of and gave it to his friend…

“Dean, you’re an incredible person. I love you and so does your family. Those that don’t stay with you when they find out? They were never real to start with, you have to remember that. What good is a friend who doesn’t accept who you are? I’d rather have three real friends than fifty fake ones.”

It was quiet for a moment as Dean thought over what had been said.

Cas spoke again, “I don’t care if you come out before we leave or not.” That much was true. He didn’t care. He didn’t mind tip-toeing around with Dean and he had patience for it in spades. But there was more that needed to be said. For Deans own good. So he took a deep breath and injected a cold reality, “But when you get to Cali and start living an openly gay lifestyle… you’re going to find it really hard to come back here to your family and friends and try to keep that part of yourself secret.”

Dean appeared to consider this, dipping his head in a shameful nod. Cas continued, “You’ll feel free there… I honestly think you will. It will be heaven for a while. But then you’ll accidently post a picture of us that’s too intimate. Or you’ll say something to your mom when you talk to her… there will be something… a ‘tell’. Your freedom will ruin your focus and you’ll out yourself.”

Dean was nodding along, because it was logical. Freedom was what he’d been craving. The night he’d kissed Cas for the second time… when he’d kissed him for real… it was because he’d seen that same desire for freedom in Cas’ eyes too. Seeing it had clicked with Dean. He’d recognized Cas for what he was. A kindred spirit. They were opposites in so many ways – but at their core they were the same. They yearned for the same things.

But Cas was right. He wouldn’t have freedom in Cali. Only the illusion of it. He’d never have true freedom until he came clean to his family and friends. That’s when he’ really be free.

They talked until late in the night, quietly on Cas’ bed. They agreed that when Deacon arrived to pick up Cas, they’d present a united front and tell the adults that they were planning on going to California together. They’d present themselves as buddies who wanted to take a road trip before college. They’d mostly be honest. They’d just be leaving out the fact that they were lovers. They wouldn’t make any promises about when they’d return or what their plans would be. But they promised each other that they’d make it home for the holidays – because they both knew they’d be missed when they left and it would heal a lot of the discourse if they didn’t stay away too long.

As the hour grew later, their conversation turned to simpler things. When Cas found himself idly doodling a picture of his Mickey lamp, he suggested they head outside. As they were crossing the yard, Dean said, “Wanna go for a ride with me tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Where did you and Sammy ride?”

“Around the pasture.”

“Lame.”

“Where are you going to take me?”

“You’ll see.”

As they walked, side-by-side, Cas decided to go ahead and tell Dean what he’d overheard. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m starting to feel like I’m being selfish… heading to California and leaving our parents here… I overheard your parents talking. They really don’t want you to go. You’re mom’s pretty tore up about it.”

“We’re not being selfish, Cas. This is what happens when you raise kids. They grow up and move the fuck out. Sometimes they go far away. My mom may be a little sad that I’m going and my dad may not like it either. But they both know that me leaving home is part of my growing up. Even if I went to college as planned - I’d still be over an hour away. They’d hardly ever see me. The house would be emptier with only Sam there. I’m not feeling guilty for going. Neither should you.”

“My dad will be alone. At least your mom and dad have each other still. And Sam for a few more years.”

“Your dad will be fine too, Cas. He sent you here for the summer didn’t he? He’s been fine all this time, right?”

“I guess so,” replied Cas, realizing that Dean was right, “He only called me twice the whole summer. How lonely can he be?”

“It’s our life Cas,” said Dean as he scooted through the little door and into the silo.

“You sound so sure, Dean.”

“I am sure,” he said as he settled down and pulled out his lighter, “It’s weird. I’ve been so uncertain about so many things for so long. But what I’m sure of is you. I’ve never felt this before – but it’s strong. You said you loved me before…”

“… yeah. I was kind of hoping you hadn’t noticed that. Or that you were going to let it slide…” said Cas softly – not looking at Dean.

“Why? You meant it right?” asked Dean as he held out the smoke for Cas.

“Guess so,” he conceded as he took it, “Didn’t really mean to say it though, not yet anyway.”

“S’okay Cas. I feel it too. I think it’s why I’m so sure of things. As long as I’m with you – it won’t matter if I fuck up everything else. You’re my best friend and as long as we stick together, I think everything else will work itself out.”

“So, when my dad comes day after tomorrow, we tell him that we’re headed for California in your car and that we’ll drop them all a postcard when we get there?”

“Yeah,” said Dean with a chuckle, “And maybe we should pack our bags and have them in the trunk ahead of time. Never know… we may end up having to make a quick getaway.”

The next morning, Cas did chores with Sam. He was well aware that this was the second to last time he’d be doing them. Tomorrow, shortly after chores, his dad would be here to collect him. He was planning to spend the day and have supper with the Winchesters before heading back to Chicago with Cas in the passenger seat.

When the chores were finished, they had lunch. Afterwards, Dean nodded to Cas and said, “You still up for a ride?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, grab your bag… your drawing stuff.”

While Cas went upstairs to fetch his things, Dean lingered at the table and chatted with his mom. She smiled and hugged them both as they were leaving. She’d been hugging them a lot the last few days; probably noticing that the time for hugs was growing short. Summer was coming to an end.

Cas sat on the top rail of the fence with his book bag slung over one shoulder as Dean saddled both their horses. He took Mary’s spirited mare and left Cas with John’s older and slower gelding. Everyone knew John loved this horse even though he hadn’t ridden in ages. He often came by the paddock and gave it pieces of fruit or ears of corn; always patting his neck softly before heading off.

Cas followed along behind Dean who lead them across the now empty hayfield on the northwest corner of their property. Dean was in a rambunctious mood and was clowning around on Mary’s horse, running little circles around Cas. His old nag plodded along with no inclination to even lift his head as his fellow equine pranced about, frisky with Dean on her back. It was a perfect day for riding… clear blue sky with just a few dots of clouds… unseasonably cool and just a mild breeze sweeping gently over the fields. Dean whistled softly as they wandered along.

When they came to the back of the field, Dean turned and followed the fence almost to the corner and then navigated his horse through a small section where the fence was missing. Cas followed slowly, never encouraging his animal faster. He simply allowed Dean to have his fun showing off and goofing around while he accepted his animal’s steady pace.

They crossed another field and then turned out onto a gravel road on which they rode for about a tenth of a mile. Then, Dean unexpectedly turned off the road and followed a long drive down into an old cemetery. The rusty wrought iron fence and crumbled tombstones combined with the numerous dead trees and untended grounds made it look like something out of an old western. But Cas guessed that at night it would be downright creepy. They followed the overgrown path that wound through the grounds until Dean pulled up to a stop. There was an old hand pump here and Cas watched from the saddle as Dean dismounted and leaned into it, giving it a few pumps until water began to gush out. There was an old cement cistern beneath which caught the stream and began to fill. Without encouragement, the mare moved to it and drank. Cas chuckled at the noise she made as she tried to drink with the bit in her mouth.

“C’mon down Cas,” Dean smiled from below.

Cas loved the way the sunlight caught on Dean’s sunbleached hair. He turned sideways and slid down from the saddle, copying the way Dean had knotted the reigns and left them hanging around his horse’s neck.

“Won’t they run off?” he asked tentatively as he stepped away from the animal.

“Nope.”

“Strange.”

“Why? They’re happy. Plus, the grass is thick here. What’s better?”

“Good point,” he said, stepping closer to Dean, “This place is cool.”

“Yeah, I thought you might like to draw it. That’s why I had you grab your bag.”

“Awesome,” Cas enthused as he began walking down a row of crumbling stones, looking for the perfect vantage from which to draw.

“Mom brought me and Sammy here once - years ago,” Dean said as he trailed behind Cas, “she had us put paper over the stones and rub with chalk. It was really neat. If I know her, she’s still got them stowed away somewhere.”

“Very cool. Tombstone rubbings…” mumbled Cas as he settled down in a low spot where the precariously tipping weathered stones seemed taller. He began to sketch out a scene. Dean was right, the horses simply grazed nearby with no inclination of wander off anywhere.

Dean laid down in the grass next to Cas and let one hand rest on his friend’s thigh as he contentedly watched the few small clouds track across the sky. He tried to pick out shapes in them, but there weren’t many to find so his mind wandered easily from one insignificant thing to another. Beside him, Cas worked intently.

Dean drifted in and out of peaceful sleep, occasionally picking his head up to check that the horses hadn’t wandered too far in their grazing. When the light had changed, turning from yellow to orange as the sun sank lower in the sky, Dean sat up and asked Cas how much longer he’d need to finish his picture.

“I’ve done a few… we can head out when you’re ready.”

“It’ll be supper and chores soon.”

“Okay,” said Cas as he began putting his things back into his backpack. As Cas stood, he couldn’t help but reach out to Dean and pull him into a kiss. The good kind. The deep kind. The kind you only have once in a while.

A kiss conveys a lot – whether it’s the reassurance of a soft and comfortable daily peck on the cheek or an impassioned good-bye or an exuberant hello. Cas hoped this one would tell Dean all the things that he wanted to say but would avoid because it was cheesy; like how grateful he is for this outing and how much he’s looking forward to their future… how incredibly happy he is to belong to Dean Winchester.

Dean hums a little bit into the kiss and gives Cas that favorite little half-smile as they pull apart. The ride back seems shorter. Cas pet’s the horses while Dean gets them unsaddled and brushed down. Chores went by like a snap and Mary went all out for dinner that night too. As they crossed the yard they could see that she’d set up a picnic and had the grill going. John was sitting on the porch reading a magazine and sipping lemonade.

They sat at the picnic table and ate grilled hamburgers and gorged on homemade potato salad and choice of pie for dessert. Wanting to spend a bit of time with his folks, Dean suggested a game. They wound up gathered around the kitchen table playing Uno for almost two hours. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. Cas caught Dean giving him ‘the look’ a few times from across the table.

Then later, by the light of a waning moon, the boys walked quietly to the hayloft. Cas noticed that Dean was quieter than usual, slow in his movements.

Dean wasn’t nervous anymore, though he couldn’t put his finger on what was different. He kissed Cas just once before he began to undo his buttons one at a time and without urgency. He watched Cas’ face as he curled his fingers into his boy’s waistband and slowly pulled his pants down.

This time, he didn’t abandon Cas’ pants at thighs, knees or ankles as he’d done many times before. He took them all the way off, gently, one leg at a time. He pulled his lovers foot up to his mouth and kissed toes, the pads of his feet and his ankles as he worked higher. He loved Cas’ hairy legs and the thick shape of them, the muscles. His mouth explored every inch as he pressed upward toward the vee where Cas’ dick was hardening as he progressed higher. He kissed his boy’s heavy cock reverently and swirled his tongue around the tip. Cas had been very quiet up until now. But as Dean began to suck him with more fervor – he gave way to mumbling about how good it was. How good Dean was.

There was a snap as Dean popped the cap on the bottle he’d brought out in his back pocket. Cas heard it and came to attention.

“Oh yes, Dean,” he breathed, “Yes.”

Dean took his time, he didn’t need instructions. Not from the internet and not from Cas. It was simple… he had no idea why he’d ever thought this would be difficult. With a smooth and slippery hand he began to finger his lover. It was always delicious to put a finger into Cas, but knowing that his dick would soon be where that finger now was? It heightened his anticipation and the excitement of what he was about to feel rolled over him in waves. Each time he felt Cas’ body clench down on him… his dick would swell larger and harder. He wasn’t so much prepping as playing. He’d do a finger in and out, wiggle it around, then do two and scissor them, then he’d go back to just one. There was no rhyme or reason to it – he just did what he felt like. As he did, Cas moved about in the hay. He’d spread his legs wide and then turn to the side and arch his back. Dean played with his cock and balls too, drizzling lube over the boy and trading heavy hand for light hand, palm for fingers and back again. He had lost track of time completely when his need began to overwhelm his odd sense of calm.

Cas was completely strung out but Dean stopped him when he tried to roll over onto his stomach. Strange. So many times he’d laid on top of girl and wished for her to turn over. Now, he couldn’t bear it. He had to see Cas’ face when they did this… couldn’t unlock himself from those eyes. Cas always looked so hopeful when Dean would move closer – it was his favorite look – those big eyes pleading for it – saying to Dean, “Yes please” without Cas ever even opening his mouth.

As he lowered himself between Cas’ spread legs, he used his wet hand to navigate and found himself sliding in easier than he’d expected. The feeling was every bit as electrifying as he’d imagined. A shiver snaked up his spine as he sank in and he held his breath without even meaning to. He had to remind himself to breathe when he finally bottomed out. From that moment on – breaths were heavy, fast and loud.

The breathing, the hay shifting, an occasional moan. Those were the only sounds as Dean made love to Cas. By the time they both came, they were covered in a sheen of sweat. Their hair was damp and their lips were swollen and raw from kissing so ardently. He didn’t say “I love you.” He didn’t need to; Cas knew. Instead, as he laid his heavy head on his lovers chest, he said, “I’m so happy Cas.”

“Me too Dean.”

“Tomorrow… it happens tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Tell me we’ll still be like this after.”

“You mean happy?”

“Yes.”

“I hope so.”

.


	13. A Father's Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Ravenwolf36 for editing, for the chapter title and for reminding me TO UPDATE THE TAGS FOR HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE!

Deacon arrived early. Dean and Cas were literally walking across the yard from having done chores when Cas’ father pulled in the drive. Cas loved the look of warmth and acceptance on his father’s face as they’d moved in to hug each other. But he’d also been frustrated because he had no eye-liner on so he didn’t know if the look his father gave him was genuine… or just a response to seeing his son without the usual dark garb and makeup that he hated.

They’d moved into the house and had sandwiches and lemonade. Most of the conversation was between father and son; the Winchesters all stayed quiet to not intrude. As the dishes were cleared, John took Deacon outside to ‘show him around the farm’. Dean knew this must be code for ‘talk to Deacon alone’ because John had already shown him around the farm when he’d been here to drop Cas off at the beginning of summer.

Mary was already starting the prep for their evening meal. The boys watched her put a huge roast in the oven and begin the making of pies. Dean elbowed Cas and gave a nod of approval when he saw his mother pull a container of her own frozen strawberry/rhubarb pie filling from the freezer. Soon they followed Sam to the living room and commenced one last gaming session.

Dean may have been joking when he’d said they should put bags in the Impala just in case they had to make a quick getaway. But he was secretly glad they’d gone ahead and done it. With their bags packed into the trunk, wallet and keys in his pocket, Dean felt more in control. Like they really could just take off if the situation warranted storming out.

When the men came in from outside, they shooed the ‘kids’ out of the living room so they could watch TV. The gaming session was moved upstairs and that’s where they lingered until it was time for evening chores. The three boys went out without John who was in the living room with his buddy drinking beers and watching the Cubs on TV. Mary was in the kitchen setting the table and tending several pots on the stove. She smiled at them as they shuffled through.

When they’d finished, they washed up and headed down for supper. Dean gave his mom a little hug and told her she’d outdone herself. It wasn’t a lie. His eyes moved greedily over the table where a huge roast was set out with mashed potatoes and gravy. There were fresh rolls and steaming corn on the cob… even cucumbers in vinegar. Dean’s mouth watered. And behind them on the counter were two freshly baked pies.

They settled in around the table and began passing the food and filling their plates. As always, the food was delicious. These big family meals would be something Cas missed whether he either rode off into the sunset with Dean or was dragged home by his father.

Things were as peaceful as they could be while the gang chowed down. Between bites, John and Deacon traded talk of what the summer had held for them. Deacon talked about his overtime shifts at the prison where he worked and told everyone stories of the inmates. Some were funny and some were shocking or creepy. John traded out stories of farm life and laughed at things that had happened over the summer. For Cas it was unique to hear of his time on Winchester Farms from an adult’s perspective.

He’d never known how comical John had thought Cas’ hair was when he staggered down each morning for chores. But to hear John telling his father about the veritable bird’s nest he wore on his head at 5am each morning was quite funny. He smiled warmly too as he watched John tell his father that Cas had ‘taken it like a man’ when they’d baled hay –even going so far as to tell Deacon the diameter of the blisters Cas had gotten. Then he laughed milk out his nose as his father was told about him having fallen asleep on the bean bar and Ellen chucking her hat at him. He’d woken startled by the assault and dropped his wand. If it hadn’t been for the seat belt, he’d have flailed right out of his seat, he was sure of it. He’d been humiliated at the time – but with John’s embellishments the recounting of the story was actually quite funny.

Eventually, though, the discussion did shift. John and Mary both knew that Dean wanted to take a road trip to California. And, though they hadn’t been told directly, Cas knew that both of Dean’s parents were aware that California was his idea and that he would be going along. Deacon, however, knew nothing. The inevitable happened right after his father leaned back in his chair and patted his belly – praising Mary for the delicious meal. He then turned to Cas and said, “Well, my boy, how much have you saved this summer for your car?”

“Well,” replied Cas with caution, “I’ve saved $2715 from working here at the farm and I still have $300 left from my graduation money. So, I have a little over three grand.”

Cas tried not to notice that the table around them had fallen silent. He looked around at everyone eating. Sam was the only one who appeared to not know something heavy was about to go down. When his eyes returned to his father, Cas saw that he was smiling.

“Congratulations, son, that’s quite a chunk of change! If I’d had that kind of bankroll when I was your age… I might’ve been less tempted to join the corps!”

Cas watched his father flash a grin to John and the two of them seemed to share a knowing smile. “Well, I told you I would match what you saved,” he said firmly and then proceeded to pull out his checkbook right there at the table and write Cas a personal check for $2715.Cas’ jaw dropped, he had not expected this. He’d assumed that his dad would hold the money back in some way… try to be sure it was spent in a way he wanted it spent. He’d been hoping to have the money for California but he’d been reminding himself all summer that the only guaranteed money for Cali was what he kept in his own hands. This was too good to be true.

As Cas reached out and tentatively accepted the check from his father, he caught a disapproving vibe from John. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the face, but he could feel frustration ebbing from the bullish father figure who was seated at the head of the table.

Deacon seemed to be unaware of the shift in mood, smiling at Cas as he turned his attention back to his plate and resumed eating.

Cas chanced a glance at Dean who was working hard to keep his eyes on his plate. His eyes skimmed over to John and found him looking directly at Cas with a jaw set that inspired fear. John had not liked watching Cas receive that money. He wasn’t sure why it would bother John, but clearly it had.

“So,” said Deacon as he set down his fork and pulled his phone from his pocket, “I know you said you weren’t sure about buying a car right now. But I found this beauty…” he was grinning as he passed his phone to Cas, “… it’s only $3500. I was thinking that would eat up all your money but it looks like we could buy this and you’d still have plenty left over. What do you think?”

Cas looked at the picture on his dad’s phone. It was a black Camry. “Looks nice dad.”

“Let me see,” pushed Sam, leaning across the table to take the phone, “No way, Cas!” he laughed, “You need a van with carpet up the walls and disco ball!”

The entire table got a laugh over that, but it didn’t cut the tension for long. Sam seemed to start to notice the strain as he reached across the table to pass Cas back the phone.

“Well, it aint exactly a sports car,” his father grinned, “but that’s a plus in my book. Insurance will be lower and parts will be cheaper when we need to work on it. Plus, I’ve had a look at it already… it’s in really good shape. It’s been driven by an old lady and kept in a garage. It’s a solid purchase, son.”

“I like it dad,” said Cas, “And I appreciate you checking it out for me. I appreciate you matching my savings…” Cas leaned in a little, not wanting the entire table to hear him as he said, “and I don’t want to make you angry or disappoint you…” there was no way that the sound of a few forks scraping plates would obscure his words. He wished they were in private so he could’ve said he loved his dad. Somehow he just couldn’t do it here. His eyes would tear up and he knew it. He couldn’t do it at a table full of people. Not even these people. He forced himself to just finish his sentence, “… but I’m certain that I don’t want to buy a car right now.”

Deacon straightened a little in his seat. No one was speaking. The entire table was watching them, waiting for the inevitable bomb to go off. Dean looked nervous. Sam looked curious. Cas waited, his father’s face was unreadable.

“Well son, I know you’re not at an age where you’ll say that you want to put that money in an IRA. So why don’t you just cut to the chase and tell me what you _do_ plan to do with it.”

This was it. Cas took a deep breath and said, “I want to go to California.”

Deacon blinked twice and appeared to be internally deciphering Morse code. “What do you mean, Castiel?”

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to go there… for years I’ve wanted to. I’m not ready to start school yet. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. I think I’d like to take some time… go to California. I can go to school later…” he stammered, “… when I have a better idea of what I really want to do.”

“Jesus,” said Deacon flatly as he dropped his head in his hands. Cas looked around. Mary and John were both watching Deacon. Sam was looking at his parents and Dean was staring straight at him. Cas tried to give Dean an imploring look… let him know with his eyes that he was stuck and didn’t know how to explain this in a way his father would understand. The moment of silence stretched out and if felt like an eternity before the scraping of chair legs on kitchen floor linoleum brought everyone’s attention to John as he stood. He didn’t speak right away, but moved toward the refrigerator where he extracted two bottles of beer. “C’mon buddy,” he said as he laid a hand on Deacon’s shoulder, “Let’s go sit on the porch and get some air.”

Cas watched the two men amble out of the kitchen and then looked to Mary. She gave Cas a little half smile. It wasn’t cute and sexy like Dean’s half smile. It was a broken kind of smile. Like she was trying to smile at him and just couldn’t pull it off. It broke his heart and he quickly turned his eyes away from her. Dean and Sam had both jumped up and were now helping their mother clear the table… something that they never did without being asked. He joined them and with the four of them working, the dishes were cleaned up in no time. Cas’ heart was pounding the entire time. He snuck a few looks at Dean and caught Sam sneaking a few looks at him. No one was speaking. When they’d finished, they migrated to the living room and turned on the TV by force of habit, but no one was paying much attention to what was on. Cas would’ve given back half his money just to know what was being said out on the porch.

At one point, all of them looked up when the screen door slammed. But no men entered the living room. There was just the slow shuffle of heavy feet, the sound of the refrigerator door being pulled open and the clank of beer bottles before the footsteps moved back outside and the screen door snapped shut again.

Another twenty aching minutes went by before the screen door snapped again. This time, two sets of heavy footfalls came towards the living room. When the dads entered the room, John looked down at Sam and sent him up to his room. At Sam’s questioning look, John reassured him he wasn’t in trouble and asked him to just play video games in his room for a while. Dean knew Sam would linger near the top of the stairs to try and hear what he could.

“Alright boys,” said John as he settled into his recliner, “It’s time to lay cards on the table. It’s yet to be said that you two plan on going to California together. One of you is calling it a road trip and the other is being even more obscure. You two need to just level with us and tell us what you’re planning.”

Dean looked at Cas and gave him a nod – he hoped this conveyed that he wished for Cas to do the talking. He took a deep breath and listened as Cas spoke for them.

“Neither me or Dean know what we want to do with our lives yet. So before we head off to school, we want to take some time to think it over. Get out and see some stuff and travel a little. When we’re sure of what we want to do, then we can go to school. I don’t think Dean has any special desire to see California… he just likes the idea of taking a road trip in his new car. I’m the one who wants to see the coast. It’s been something I’ve daydreamed about for a long time. It’s what I’d like to use my money for. When I get back and go to college I won’t really need a car… not if I live on campus. So there’s no reason for me to buy one now or then.”

Surprisingly, Mary was the first to speak, “That was well said, Cas.”

Dean watched the two Dads gape at Mary and he watched her nod to them, unapologetic.

“Look John,” said Deacon, “Being here for the summer has been good for Cas. I haven’t seen him look this normal in years. He’s feeling better too. I could tell right away. But when I told you why I wanted my boy to come and stay this summer, I held some stuff back.”

Dean didn’t like the way Deacon was talking about Cas as if he wasn’t in the room. And he definitely didn’t like the insulting way he’d said that Cas was finally looking normal. He understood the sentiment, but thought it was worded poorly. A few beers wasn’t enough alcohol to justify a tongue that loose.

“But there’s something I never told you,” Deacon went on, “I was too embarrassed to talk about it. But I think I have to now, because it will probably shed some light on what’s happening here.”

Dean watched his father look straight at Cas’ father. Mary was riveted too… so obviously wondering where this was going.

“My boy here wasn’t just dressing like a freak and getting in trouble. He had other issues. He doesn’t just wear make-up… he’s a flamer. A queer. He likes the boys. And John, your boy is fine lookin' young man. I think my boy’s just got the hots for yours and he’s luring him out with this road trip so he can make a move.” As he spoke, he stood and crossed the floor towards Cas. Dean watched helplessly as his friend was dragged to his feet by his father – Deacon was full on yelling – right in Cas’ face. “Is that what this is about? Huh, son? You got your eye on this boy? That what all this is about?”

Dean got to his feet and tore his eyes away from the spectacle in the middle of the floor, looking to his father and mother for… help? Support? He’d never imagined this reaction from either of their Dads.  He knew there would be problems when they came out. He’d expected it. Shock? Yes. Anger? Probably. Disappointment? Definitely. Absolute homophobic asshole behavior that boarders on abuse? Never. Even. Imagined.

His father was dumbfounded, mouth gaping at his friend. Dean’s eyes darted frantically to Mary. She seemed equally disturbed but, unfortunately, equally stunned and slow to respond. Dean hadn’t planned on either of them coming out tonight. He’d been ready for a blowout fight… but not about this. He’d been prepared to defend their desire to travel… not their desire for each other. He knew that coming out now would be to throw his lot in with Cas… it would mean having his father look at him the way Deacon was looking at his own son. The fear of it was paralyzing and seconds were just ticking by.

Deacon had his fists in his Cas’ shirt and was shouting in his face, “Did you think I didn’t know my son was a fairy? Why do you think you’re here? It was to do some work! To learn how to be a man! Not so you could pick a new boy to chase after!”

Dean could stand it no longer. From this vantage he couldn’t see Cas’ face. But he didn’t need to. He knew what the boy must be feeling and no matter how scared he was, no matter how much he had to lose, he couldn’t leave his friend alone in this. He summoned up what courage he had and stepped forward. He shoved himself between father and son and pulled Cas from an iron grip.

“Lay off him,” he shouted harshly, “Just back off!”

Cas was shaking like a leaf. He’d seen this boy take on a bear like Benny. He’d cradled his own face after taking a skull rattling blow from Cas’ fist. Cas was no waif. But this is what a father can do to a son… he can reduce him to nothing with only words and a look. Dean pulled Cas to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Dad,” called Dean, hoping his father would snap out of it, “Dad, please.”

Deacon was stalking towards the two of them… angrier than Dean had ever seen any man that wasn’t his own father. But even at his worst, John Winchester had never inspired actual fear like Dean was feeling now as he watched Cas’ father lumber towards them.

“Deacon,” said John.

 _Thank fuck_ , thought Dean, _finally_.

He watched his dad come out of his shock and get to his feet. John moved in to put an arm around Deacon, almost mirroring the way Dean was holding Cas.

“Hey buddy,” he said, “Let’s go back outside and cool off, huh?”

Deacon nodded vaguely in John’s direction but his eyes never moved from his son as he was walked out of the living room. When the men had cleared out, Cas turned into Dean and Dean didn’t think twice about embracing him. He cupped a hand on the back of Cas’ neck and whispered apologies into his ear. He felt terrible for Cas having to hear the words that had rolled so easily from his own father’s lips. And, he felt even worse as he realized how slow he’d been to come to the aid of his friend. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead with his eyes scrunched shut tight as he promised himself, never again. Never again would he miss a beat. From now on, he would stand with Cas against any and all dangers. Even the ones that were related by blood.

When he finally opened his eyes, he was seeing his mother. She was standing now, visible over Cas’ shoulder. He’d forgotten she was even in the room. Belatedly, he realized she’d just watched him kiss Cas. He didn’t let go of his friend, but with his eyes, he begged his mom for her support. And without hesitation she granted it. To both of them. She stepped forward and locked arms around the two of them and pressed a kiss to the top of each of their heads. “Doesn’t change a thing,” she murmured. “Not for me. It doesn’t change a thing.”

“Mom,” said Dean softly, “What about Dad?”

“He’s in shock Dean. Neither of us ever even suspected there was anything like this between you boys. We thought you’d just grown to be good friends… he’ll need some time to adjust.”

Mary was still hugging the two of them and Dean could feel her chest shaking when she chuckled and added, “I know I could’ve used a head’s up.”

When Dean and Cas finally pulled far enough apart to look at each other, Dean could see the hurt and rejection in those big blue eyes. Again, Dean realized how much damage a father can do to his son. Mary used the cradle of her arms to herd them back to the couch and the three of them sat down together.

“What’s going to happen now?” asked Dean.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “I like to think that your father will try and talk some sense into Deacon. But I just don’t know. He’s probably as shocked by all this as I was. We just thought you boys were friends… best friends…” her voice trailed off.

Dean leaned into her and said, “Mom. That’s what we are.”

“But you’re also in love,” she said quietly, “I can see it now.”

She was quiet again for a few minutes. It was growing dark outside and the cricket song had started up. It was the only noise they could hear until she spoke again, “Now that I see it… I don’t know how I missed it before. I’m sorry sweetie. I should’ve seen it.”

“We hid it from you Mom.”

“No you didn’t. Not really. I just wasn’t used to thinking of you that way. You’ve always been with girls before. But now that I look back on it, the signs were there.”

“Mom, I’ve never really liked girls. I was just scared to tell anyone. Cas is the first person I’ve ever been willing to take a chance on… the first person who was worth the risks,” he confessed.

Dean watched Cas pick his head up and really look at him for the first time since his father had hauled him up off the couch. When their eyes locked, Dean could see that his words had meant something to Cas. They both managed a small smile for the other despite the circumstances. When he looked to his mother, she pale but forcing a smile for them. “I’ll get used to it,” she told him reassuringly, “It’ll take some time, but I’ll get used to it.”

When Dean heard the screen door again, he got to his feet and left his mom and Cas on the couch. He moved boldly to the kitchen and found his father pulling down a bottle of Bourbon from the hutch. He went to the cupboard and pulled out two small glasses that he’d seen used for liquor before and handed them to his father. When his dad took them, their eyes met. “Dad?” Dean asked tentatively.

“Son?”

“What’s happening out there?”

“I’m talking to one of my oldest friends, Dean.”

“What are you telling him?”

“That he needs to accept who his son is… that Carol would’ve wanted it that way.”

“Thank you,” said Dean softly as he turned to go.

“Dean?”

“Yeah Dad?”

“Are you okay with Cas? Does knowing he’s gay change your mind about the trip?”

“No Dad,” said Dean, suddenly unable to meet the man’s eye. He lingered for a moment and then just did it. The words came out in a jumble, “I’m gay, Dad. I’m sorry. But I can’t help it,” he managed to slow down his words to a reasonable pace and finish with, “I already knew about Cas because I’m just like him.”

John Winchester leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, bottle in one hand and glasses in the other, “Well, fuck.”

Dean couldn’t speak, and for just the shortest moment he contemplated the possibility that his father would go berserk just like Deacon had. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. “When were you going to tell me?” he asked cautiously.

“I hadn’t figured that out yet.”

“How long have you known?”

“That I’m gay?” Dean asked and then watched his father nod, “For as long as I can remember. I’ve never liked girls, Dad. I just knew what everyone expected of me… and I tried to be that. I did Dad. I tried. I tried so fucking hard.”

“Okay son,” he said gruffly as he hoisted himself from the counter and began walking to the door, “I’m going out to have a few more drinks with my friend,” he nodded to Dean as he backed out the door and gave his boy an uncertain look, “and I’ll try to take a little of my own advice.”

Dean smiled as he watched his father go. There were a lot better things that his father could’ve said. But he liked John’s words. They were honest. And within the words was a promise that even though acceptance of this wasn’t John’s default setting… he’d try. That’s all Dean could really ask. He spun on his heel and moved back out to the living room to rejoin his mother and Cas.

In the few minutes he’d been gone, the mood there had shifted significantly. He paused in the doorway to watch his mom and Cas as they played Uno over the coffee table. “You want in?” his mother asked when she caught sight of them in the doorway, “If we’re just passing the time, this is better than sitting on the couch and watching the wallpaper peel.”

Dean chuckled and settled in with them. It took a long time for Mary to finally beat Cas at Uno, which is quite a show when only two people are playing. Suddenly, Dean remembered his brother. “Mom?”

“Hmm?” she said as she shuffled cards.

“Should Cas and I go upstairs and tell Sam?”

“Well,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, “If there’s anything he hasn’t overheard, feel free to tell him.”

The three huffed a laugh and Dean tipped his head in an invitation. Cas got to his feet and followed him. As they moved to leave the room, Dean looked back at his mother and mouthed a silent, “thank you” to her. She nodded and continued putting the cards away. He knew she could probably use a few minutes by herself to either gather her thoughts or join the men on the back porch anyway.

Telling Sam was much easier than Dean had ever imagined it could be. The smart ass kid had looked directly at Cas and said, “So is anybody actually smoking? Or is that just code for ‘we go to make out’?”

Cas had laughed and then explained the inside joke to Dean. They then spent several hours in Sam’s room playing video games. On some level, both Dean and Cas knew they were just killing time until the Dads were ready to talk to them again. But it was also clear that the worst was over. It had been ugly, but it was behind them now. He felt bad for how rough it had been for Cas though, and he couldn’t wait for them to be alone so he could kiss away the pain that his boy must be feeling.

It was late when John finally called to them from the bottom of the stairs. Sam stayed upstairs voluntarily but Dean knew it was only because he was planning to eavesdrop. They settled into the couch, both he and Cas working to not sit to close together and provoke an already tense situation.

“Cas, I’ve driven your father to a hotel in town. He’s going to stay overnight and head back tomorrow. I’ll go pick him up in the morning after chores. Then we’ll all sit down and have some lunch… figure a few things out. As for you two… I have some questions.”

They nodded and watched John pace the floor. Mary was seated on the periphery.

“Are you boys a couple?”

“Yes,” said Dean firmly, not wanting to beat around the bush.

“How long?”

“Half the summer?” he said tentatively – honestly not sure of the exact timing.

“Have you boys kept to your own beds upstairs?”

“Of course,” said Dean with a firm voice and a quick prayer that no one would ask about the hayloft.

“Is this thing a secret? Or do your friends know?”

“Benny knows. He’s keeping a lid on it for us.”

“Do you plan to tell everyone?”

“Eventually,” said Dean. He was answering his father’s rapid fire questions as best as he could and hoped that none would provoke rage.

“Why California?”

“I was honest when I answered that earlier,” said Cas softly, “I really have always been fixated on going there. I told Dean about it at some point and he said it sounded like fun.”

“It’s where the gays congregate. Is that the underlying reason why you’re so keen on it?”

Dean didn’t like the overall tone of that question… especially since that aspect of California life had never even occurred to him. But, Cas answered it by saying, “Maybe a little… I think the draw for me is more about the culture in general.” Dean watched Cas turn to Mary as he gave the rest of his answer, “When I picture it… I see ocean and sunshine and palm trees and artists perched on a pier painting the sunset. That’s what I want to be part of.”

John stopped pacing and leveled a heavy stare at Cas. Cas looked up at him and said bluntly, “I’m not going so I can march in a pride parade if that’s what you’re asking.”

“How long do you plan to stay there? I mean, California. How long do you plan to stay?”

“As long as I’m happy and it’s feasible.”

“So, you’re looking to build a life there.” Cas didn’t miss that this was phrased as a statement rather than a question or that John was looking directly at Mary when he said it.

“That’s right,” he answered, “Dean is free to stay or go as he chooses, of course. But my intention is to stay as long as I’m happy there.”

“What about you son?” pushed John, “Is this really just a road trip for you?”

“I guess not,” said Dean feebly, “I think it’s fair to say that I also plan to stay for as long as I’m happy there.”

John flopped down in his recliner as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He spoke softer after that. “I know when you’re young it feels like a few thousand is a lot of money. But do you boys have any idea what it’s going to cost to drive across the country? Have you even checked how much it costs to rent an apartment in the area you’re headed to? Have you thought about what you can do for work?”

“That’s a lot of questions Dad, but yeah, we’ve given it some thought.”

“You two plan on living together I take it?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Well, I hated watching your Dad hand you that check, Cas. I had a hunch what you wanted to use it for. Do you boys even realize how little you have compared to how much you’ll need? You probably spent a few hundred bucks on that one night in Chicago. Does it occur to either of you how quickly you’re going to run out of money at that rate? It’s going to take you several days to get there and several to get back. That means you’re going to end up blowing all that cash just to have a few days or a week in California.”

Dean’s heart was thudding as the truth of his father’s words burrowed into him. He had worked his way back up to about $500. And thanks to his mother, he now had a credit card with $500 on it. But how long would that last? Not long. He knew his father was right. But it didn’t beat him down like his father had clearly meant it to. Instead, it opened his eyes.

“You're right, Dad,” he said boldly, “I know you are. So help us. Please.”

“What do you want?” John fumed, sitting up straighter, “More money? A plane ticket?”

“No,” said Dean firmly, “I just want your support. Like, maybe let us take the tent in the garage so we can camp and save the cost of staying in hotels… let us take a cooler from the shed and fill it here to save a day or two of food… just little things… be supportive dad. Help us,” said Dean as he stood from the couch, “Please dad, help us and accept us.”

“I’m trying son,” he said as he looked at the floor, “I’m trying. This just isn’t how I imagined things going when you left home…”

“I know dad,” said Dean, “For me either. But now you can see why we hid, right?”

“I can,” said Mary from behind them, “I understand completely. And it’s not much, but I do plan to pack you boys a cooler.”

Dean walked over and leaned over her chair to hug her tightly, “Thanks Mom,” he whispered in her ear, “I hope you’ll be happy for me eventually. I’m doing what you said. I’m following my dream.”

She slumped back in her chair as she huffed out her response, “It’s not your dream, Dean. It’s Cas’ dream.”

Dean leveled a look at her and softly said, “Mom. He’s my dream.”

.


	14. Following A Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ravenwolf36 for editing and feedback, it's appreciated!

Dean watched his mother’s face as she digested his words; she appeared to understand his sentiment. He began backing away from her and returned to his seat on the couch. His father had resumed his pacing and Dean, not wanting to provoke his father, settled a respectable distance from Cas.

“I think that covers all my questions for tonight. I’ll see you two at 5am,” he said firmly. Then, his eyes locked on Mary, “I’m headed for bed. Are you coming?”

She nodded and replied, “I’m right behind you.”

When John had left the room, Mary leaned forward in her chair and addressed the boys. “Well, that was quite a night.”

They both nodded, keeping their eyes on her and not looking at each other.

Mary looked between them as she said, “Some awful things got said tonight. And, Dean, your father and I could’ve reacted better. For all of that, I’m sorry,” she said to both of them. “And Cas, you need to know that your father loves you very much. He’s just from a different time. He grew up hearing talk like that from his own family… his friends… he’s just going to need some time to adjust how he thinks of these things. We all will.”

Dean looked to Cas and saw his boy nodding along with Mary. On some level Dean knew she was right. This wasn’t personal. Deacon didn’t hate Cas. He just hated Cas’ actions. It was no different than the eye-liner thing or the getting in trouble. This was an action that Cas was taking and his father didn’t like it. Simple as that. But the hope Mary was giving them was that, with time, Deacon may come to accept the situation. That they all would, her and John included. Once again, Dean found himself thinking that this could be so much worse.

After all, they were here. They were sleeping in beds at the Winchester house. It was Deacon who was sleeping elsewhere – unwelcome and checked into a hotel. John may not have been reassuring with this words; but his actions spoke loudly about whose side he was really on, underneath. He’d come around. Dean was sure of it.

“Okay mom,” replied Dean as he stood, “I’m sorry I hid from you about this. I just,” his eye’s burned and his voice cracked a little as he spoke, “I just wanted to be what you guys wanted.”

“I know sweetie,” she said as she pulled him into a hug, “and it’s not going to be easy to have this out in the open. You’ll have to learn how to be this new version of yourself. And I fear you won’t have much support. Not even from your friends. People, especially around here, don’t tend to be very supportive of this lifestyle. You boys will really need to be there for each other. Support each other and be strong for one another.”

When she released him, Dean watched her pull Cas into a hug and he saw Cas squeeze tightly. He’d known his friend had bonded with his mom over the summer… that he’d been lonely for a mother's love. Mary couldn’t replace his mom, but over the summer she’d given him some of what he’d been craving. That much was obvious.

“Alright,” she said, as they pulled out of their hug, “you boy’s better get to bed; get some rest. There’s chores to be done in the morning.”

Dean nodded and turned to go upstairs. He felt Cas following behind him. As they reached the top landing and began to turn the corner, Dean saw Sam sitting in the shadow with his knees pulled up to his chest. He looked so small. He stood as they approached and whispered, “California? You’re leaving to go to California?”

“Yeah,” nodded Dean, feeling horrible that he hadn’t really considered how Sam would feel when he found out.

“When?” asked Sammy with wet eyes and a quivering chin.

“Soon,” said Dean, draping an arm around him walking the boy to his room.

“I thought…” Sam stammered, “…I thought you would be like an hour away. Not _days_ away. I was gonna come visit you for a weekend at your dorm. You were gonna be home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Dean,” his brother said imploringly, “When am I gonna _see you again_?”

“You’ll see me Sammy. I promise. Maybe you can visit us in Cali. Maybe we can come home for Christmas.” Dean pulled his baby brother into a hug, right there in the hallway outside of his room. He realized now, how much he’d miss the little guy. How much he’d prefer to be closer – have Sam be able to visit him often… to promise his brother these things and _mean_ them. Sam didn’t want to let him go, he clung to the hug even when Dean started to pull away.

Dean held on, and looked over Sammy’s shoulders at Cas. Seeing they needed some time, Cas moved past them and disappeared into his own room, closing the door behind him. Dean immediately felt torn. Cas needed him tonight. So did his brother. What could he do?

In the end, he chose to be there for Sammy. He had unlimited nights stretching out ahead of him with Cas. But only this one with his baby brother. He went into Sam’s room and closed the door. The two settled into the bed together and laid close, talking all night. No one had slept when John’s heavy voice beckoned to them at 5:00 am for chores.

The three boys went down for breakfast and had waffles with Mary’s crushed berries. She made their eggs to order and slid bacon on their plates from a large, heavy skillet. No one spoke of last night, but the air was heavy with an undercurrent of wariness.

Outside, at the back of the pick-up when the milking was finished, the tension finally broke. It happened when Sam and Cas missed the hand-off of a large container of milk. It broke over the tailgate of the truck and both let out the f-bomb as the warm liquid gushed everywhere. Sam was up on the tailgate and his boots were soaked. Milk was everywhere and the noise of it draining to the ground continued for several seconds. Cas was wet all over, shirt and pants soaked.

The look on their faces was so funny that Dean let out a roar of laughter. John followed and then the milk covered boys joined in too. Soon, John was hosing them down and laughing as they shouted curses into the air. From being covered in warm milk to being hosed down with freezing water was quite a shock to the system and the curses didn’t let up until they were entering the house where Mary would hear them. John stayed outside hosing down the pick-up. By the time the boys were out of their boots, they could hear John pulling out in the truck, taking the milk to the creamery.

When they’d changed into dry clothes, they headed out to finish cleaning stalls. The mood was lighter then, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, Dean was looking around the farm introspectively.

Cas’ pictures over the summer had really helped him see the magic of this place. And now he felt a pang in his chest for how much he would miss the farm. He’d miss the black silhouette of the barns against a striking sunset… the way the early morning sun bathed a hazy glow over the pastures… the way the white rail fence cut across the green of the fields. He loved this place so much.

Turning to Cas, he saw the boy looking like he always did for chores. Wild bed-head. Ratty sweatshirt tied around his waist as the heat set in. Bright blue eyes skimming the farm for what he would draw that day. He loved Cas. He loved this place and he loved his family. It was heartbreaking.

When they’d finished, they headed inside to clean up. Mary was putting out the fixings for BLT sandwiches which would be their lunch. Dean eyed the pies that she had lined up on the counter as he passed through. It was strange when they finally sat down to eat and John wasn’t there.

“Where is he, Mom?” asked Dean with fear creeping up in his chest.

“With Deacon,” she responded, as she filled her glass with lemonade and sat down with them, “they have a lot to talk about.”

Dean nodded and tried to think of something to fill the awkward silence. He had nothing.

“Dean,” said Mary with a smile, “Why don’t you tell me one thing you’re looking forward to in California?”

“The ocean,” he said without missing a beat.

She grinned at him and followed up with, “Okay, now tell me one thing you’ll miss about home.”

“Your pies!” he joked as he returned her grin.

“Your turn, Cas, what’s something you’re looking forward to on the coast?”

“A loft” he said quietly, “I love the idea of having a huge space with tall windows and lots of light where I can create things and make a mess and…” he is voice trailed off as he finished, “… a space where I’m free to be me.”

“Alright, Cas, you must see how this works… give me something you’ll miss about home.”

Lots of things fluttered through Cas’ mind at that moment. Even his mom’s face made an appearance. In his mind's eye he saw his friends, his school and the comfort of his own room – which he’d not seen for months. But a lump stuck in his throat as he admitted to the table, “My Dad. I’ll miss my Dad.”

Seeing Cas was struggling for composure, Mary returned her attention to Dean. “Give me another,” she said firmly, “What else besides the ocean?”

“Palm trees,” he said wistfully.

“And something you’ll miss from home?”

Dean dipped his head and looked only at his plate, “Sammy.”

With that, Sam’s eyes filled with tears and he ran from the table. His mother broke down too, a single tear rolling down her pink cheek. “Dammit,” she barked, “I wasn’t trying to make anyone cry.”

It was so strange to hear his mother curse, at the sound of it, Dean burst out laughing. He looked at Cas who was working to hold back his own laughter and once their eyes met it was useless. “Mom swore!” Dean laughed, “Mom finally swore and Sammy missed it! I’m gonna go tell him…” said Dean as he stepped away from the table.

Dean headed for the stairs and Cas leaned in to hug Mary. “Thanks for trying so hard,” he whispered to her as they embraced.

When he reached Sammy’s closed door, Dean knocked on it but pushed his way in without waiting for permission. “You missed it Sammy… mom finally swore.”

Sam was sitting cross legged on the bed and holding his pillow. He lifted red-rimmed eyes to Dean and said, “F-bomb?”

“Naw, she’s still mom. She said Dammit.”

“What a waste. If you’re finally gonna break down and cuss… it should be the f-word.”

Dean settled on the side of the bed and pulled his brother into his arms. “I’ll miss you Sammy - so damn much.” The boy clung to his big brother and blubbered like a baby as Dean cradled him. It was during the subsequent hiccups that John’s voice called to them from the bottom of the stairs.

Dean poked his head around the corner and looked to the bottom. His father was still standing there. “Well, c’mon down son. Ain't no firing squad waitin' for ya.”

Sam followed behind him as he came cautiously down the stairs. His father reached out and put an arm around his shoulders, steering him gently towards the kitchen. It felt almost like a hug and Dean was so hungry for the affection that he kept his pace as slow as possible to drag it out.

When they walked through the doorway, Dean saw Deacon sitting at the table and putting together a sandwich. Cas was next to him, and sinking into a huge bite of his own. Mary was laughing at something that had just been said. It looked very normal.

“Well, Sam,” teased Mary as the three of them drew closer, “I guess you missed the big event. I’ve cursed and you’ll never know what it sounded like.”

“It was a waste,” Sam joked back to her, “I’m waiting for the f-bomb.”

“It’ll be a cold day in Hell when that happens.” she chuckled.

They took their seats around the table and as he settled in to finish the food on the plate he’d abandoned, Dean watched Cas and Deacon carefully. He wondered what he’d missed while he’d been upstairs; there was almost no tension between father and son.

The family and guests all ate the remains of their noon meal without much conversation. But there was warmth from the adults and smiles between bites. It was wonderful.

Mary, not to be dissuaded, tried her game again. It went over better now that everyone was feeling better. “Tell me,” she said looking at Dean, “One more thing you picture yourself doing in California.”

“Driving…” he said with a sly smile, “My new baby… windows down… ocean out my window…” he was smiling before he could stop it.

“Lovely,” she replied as she looked around the table, “Now… something you’ll miss.”

“This.” Said Dean firmly as he looked around the table at his family. “I’ll miss this.”

Mary nodded to John who nodded to Deacon. Deacon took the hint and picked up the game. “Okay Castiel, what’s something you’re looking forward to when you’ve hit the coast?”

“Painting on a pier.”

“Not graffiti?” Deacon asked jokingly.

“Nope… an easel. Beautiful paintings of the ocean,” answered Cas with a warm smile and dreamy eyes.

“What will you miss?”

“Shoveling snow?” he questioned jokingly. Laughter settled over the table and the mood stayed light. Mary brought a pie over to the table and cut into it. “Who wants a slice?”

Everyone did, of course. Sam piped up asking, “What are our choices?”

“We have apple and apple,” she teased back to him – keeping with the fun atmosphere they had going.

“You’ve got three more pies over there mom,” pushed Sam as he eyed the counter.

“We’re not cutting those,” she said with a poignant look in Dean’s direction, “those are for the boys to take with them.”

Before Dean even had a chance to express his gratitude for the pies and all that they symbolized, his father’s voice cut in. “Well, we’d better get out to the garage.” Both fathers pushed back from the table, “We’ve got work to do if these boys are ever gonna get on the road.”

Dean looked back and forth between the dads. “You did say you wanted a tent, didn’t you son?” asked John.

“Y-Yes,” stumbled Dean, loving where this was going, “thank you, sir?” he responded, frustrated that it came out sounding like a question.

“Well, there’s a few other things you’ll need too,” said John as they all shuffled to the back porch to put on shoes and head outside, “You’ll need to change the oil and check your fluids. Get the car ready if you’re gonna run her ‘cross the country. Your Mother’s going to pack you up some good food and we’ll get you outfitted for proper camping.”

The men spent the afternoon helping Dean and Cas prep Baby for the trip. They packed the trunk with camping equipment and some tools for Dean to keep when he got to Cali. That way he’d be able to work on his own car; change his own oil and not have to take it to a shop.

Mary came out and loaded a large cooler into the trunk along with several containers of things that didn’t need to stay cool. Then she put a small cooler in the back seat, added a blanket and pillow, and a box. Peering into the box, Dean saw three pies in it. He smiled and hugged his mom tightly.

Deacon and John moved forward then, a unified front to the boys. “We wanted to do something,” said Deacon, “something to help… something you’d probably need… so we got you a membership to AAA.” Dean watched as Deacon slid an envelope into the glove box. “That way if you boys get into trouble, find yourselves stranded, you’ll be able to call someone to come for you… when we’re too far away… to come for you.”

Dean watched as Cas stepped forward and hugged his dad. John was watching them too and gave his friend a nod of approval. “Dean?” said John, pulling his attention from the father-son exchange they’d all been watching, “I’ll pay your car insurance for you for six months. It’ll give you time to get set up.”

“Thanks Dad,” he said as he stepped up to hug his father.

Mary pulled Sam to her side and watched with a warm heart as two sets of fathers hugged their sons and whispered words of encouragement. “You’ll be okay too, Sam. It’ll hurt for a while, but he was getting ready to head off anyway. He’s just going a little farther than we planned.”

“I know,” he told her, “I’ll be okay.”

When Dean finally climbed into the driver’s seat and Cas settled in beside him, it was late afternoon. The sun was filtering through the trees that hung over the lane as they drove down it… dappled sunlight playing over the gravel before they rode over it and kicked up dust in their wake. In the rear view mirror, Dean watched the two dads pull Sam between them and turn to walk towards the house. Mary stood waving and watching them go until they couldn’t see her anymore.

It was strange to actually be leaving. The last 24 hours had been heavily charged with emotion and there had been a lot to think about. Dean had questioned everything twice as they’d come clean to their family about where they were going and acknowledged the truth of what they were to each other.

But now, looking at Cas and seeing his eyes bright with excitement, he found himself sharing it. The road lay out ahead of them… ready to take them where ever they wanted to go. The world was at their feet and they’d make whatever they wanted of their lives. Together.

When they got on the interstate they increased speed. Dean loved how his baby sounded when accelerating. She roared and rumbled under him and he pointed her west. Finally. They were headed to California.

Starting the road trip was fun. It only took an hour for Dean to be farther West than he’d ever been. When they’d stopped to fill up for the first time, it was dark. They parked under the lights of the truck stop and sat on the hood with an atlas spread between them. They used the book to choose the route they’d be taking and laughed as they did rock-paper-scissors to decide between San Francisco and San Diego.

“San Francisco it is,” laughed Dean, loving the way Cas’ eyes crinkled as he smiled from ear to ear, “So long as there’s a beach… I’m in!”

“Yeah, I get it Dean, you’re gonna be a surfer.” Cas loved the idea of Dean as a surfer… his broad shoulders tanned and his muscled arm holding a surfboard at his side… bow legs under board shorts and bright green eyes watching the waves break… “I can’t wait to draw you,” Cas said as he pictured it.

“I can’t wait to get wet! Let’s go!” he barked as he yanked the atlas from between them, “It looks like we just stay on I80 for most of the trip. We’ll figure the rest out as we go - with the maps on our phones.”

They climbed into the car and headed back up the ramp to the interstate. They were all smiles. They’d driven into the wee hours of the morning, talking excitedly and singing along to the radio. They’d even texted Sam a picture when they crossed the state line. After that, they decided to do the same with each that they crossed. Gradually, they had started including more and more people in the texts. When they crossed into Wyoming they included their parents in the ‘send to’ list.

There had been no tent pitching the first night. They simply pulled into a rest stop when they were too tired to drive anymore. Dean tossed Cas the pillow that Mary had tucked in the back seat and put the cooler to the floor. Then, he curled up on the backseat using the blanket as a pillow. Cas leaned up and locked all their doors as an afterthought, leaning over the backseat and pecking Dean on the cheek before he settled in and let himself fall asleep.

They’d been awakened a few hours later by the sound and vibration of a noisy truck rumbling through. When the sound of it had faded, Dean had dropped his head back down and resumed sleeping. Cas, however, had been too keyed up to go back to sleep. He palmed the keys from Dean’s pocket and started the car. When Dean grumbled about being tired, Cas just told him to get more sleep. He took the pillow he’d been using and pushed it under Dean’s head, trading it for the blanket which he used to cover him over. With Dean snuggled down in the back seat, Cas exited back onto the freeway and continued to press West as the first streaks of daylight began coloring the sky in his rearview mirror.

The following afternoon, the fun of being in the car was over. Cas would have traded his left hand for a chance to lay with his legs straightened out for a few hours. Dean was getting cranky too. So they pulled into a campground near Rock Springs and paid the $8.00 it cost to tent-camp there. The sun was setting as they unloaded the trunk and set up the tent. When the night settled in, it found them sitting on camp stools in front of a roaring fire. They speared hot dogs from the cooler onto sticks from the ground and roasted them. Dean’s crankiness faded quickly as he and his friend talked by the fire. They ate their fill and then switched to toasting marshmallows. Before crawling into their tent for the night, they smoked a joint together, letting the warm sense of contentment settle into their bones.

When they rolled out sleeping bags in the tent, Dean laid his out flat for them so they could sleep together and cover over with Cas’. With him as the big spoon and his arm draped over Cas’ trim waist, Dean began working his fingers inside Cas’ underwear. He could feel his friend's breathing change as he began to play with his cock. It didn’t take long for Cas to reach behind himself and tug his own briefs down – exposing his ass in a lurid invitation. Dean slid his tongue down and licked between Cas’ pert cheeks before turning him so that their dicks could rub together and slotted their legs so they could grind, skin to skin. With urgent kisses and licks they humped and stroked and wrung out an orgasm while keeping quiet… not wanting to be heard in the neighboring tents.

The next morning, having slept well, the boys were all smiles as they packed up their gear and got back on the road. They’d only been driving for a few hours when they were pulling off to click a picture of themselves in front of a sign that read, “Welcome to Utah – Life Elevated”

“It’s lame,” grumbled Dean, making fun of the slogan, “why don’t they just be honest and say, ‘Welcome to Utah, life sucks here’.”

“C’mon,” replied Cas as he smacked Dean flirtatiously on the ass, “We’re just passing through.”

Back in the car, Dean sent the pictures to Sam and their parents as Cas drove them westward. He also sent the text to Benny and spent a solid hour texting back and forth with him regarding their coming out and their trip to California. He left it to Benny to tell who he wanted now that the secret was out. It was time for his friends to know about him. He didn’t expect good things and was glad to be hundreds of miles from the scornful looks he was sure he’d get. The scenery was dull and muted for most of the trip and the sky threatened rain all day… but none fell.

As night set in, Dean started to receive some interesting texts. He got several messages from friends that evening… messages of support. It was unexpected. Benny had basically said it – and said it loudly – at a party at the pits. Those who were inclined to send positive messages to Dean were rewarded with replies filled with colorful pictures from their trip and promises that if they were ever in Cali – they should look him up.

They weren’t traveling in Utah for long… they’d just clipped the upper portion of the state and found that once they’d come through Salt Lake City, they weren’t far from another state line. They had to take the ‘Welcome to Nevada’ picture in the dark. Cas was the one to send that set of picture messages, since Dean was driving. They stayed on the road all night – each taking a turn sleeping while the other drove. They were in the Pacific time zone now and the excitement of getting close to their destination kept them pressing on.

Dean was thinking as he watched the yellow dashes disappearing under Baby’s hood. He was realizing that this experience had been far less about having a fun road trip than simply about getting to their destination. They’d only camped the one night… they hadn’t stopped to see the world’s largest ball of twine… or done anything that resembled sight-seeing. They’d done nothing but drive west – almost urgently. He hoped that when they reached their destination it would be everything they’d both been conjuring in their minds.

So far they’d done well with their money, only spending it on necessities like gas and ice for the cooler. Since Mary had packed them so well, they’d had plenty to eat and drink. She’d included a gallon of her lemonade, a gallon of tea and several packs of soda. There were sandwiches for while they were driving and hotdogs with marshmallows for when they camped. She’d bundled up plenty of snacks too… bags of chips and ziplock baggies of her own cookies. The pies she’d sent along had been passed back and forth between Dean and Cas as they ate directly from the pie tins with plastic spoons.

When they’d stop to fill the tank, they’d use the restroom and wash up. They’d also drain the coolers and add ice. But no, it was a far cry from what he’d call a ‘road trip’.

When they entered California, Dean had been expecting paradise. It wasn’t. It was rocky, sandy and devoid of color. The sky had never looked wider than it did in the absence of color on the ground. They eventually came into Sacramento where they filled up again. Dean really hadn’t expected Cali to look like this.

“Thought it would be prettier,” Dean commented as he leaned on Baby’s trunk and pumped gas.

“It will be,” said Cas as he munched on a cookie, “when we get closer to the coast.”

Dean nodded and swiped the rest of the cookie from Cas’ unsuspecting hands. When they were back on the road, Cas noticed that Dean was getting quiet. “What are you thinking about?” he’d asked his friend.

“Nothing. We’re almost there…”

“Yeah,” pressed Cas, “But why do you have a look on your face like you’re smelling an egg-salad fart?”

“What are we gonna do when we get there, Cas?”

“I’m thinking we should hit the beach,” he replied teasingly.

“Yeah… but then what?”

“Well, Dean, I’ve found three campgrounds right near the water that are free. I called and made reservations while you were sleeping yesterday. All three are in the same area of the city… Sausalito. There’s a limit of three days per year, per person, so we can’t just stay indefinitely. But I’ve booked us into them consecutively, three nights at each.” Dean immediately felt better knowing that they had an actual destination besides the line they’d crossed on a map. “That gives us nine days to find something better,” finished Cas.

“Better?” gaped Dean as he looked to his friend, “What’s better than free by the beach?”

“Well, these places aren’t campgrounds like that last place,” said Cas with a wicked grin, “At these places we’ll have to park Baby in a lot and hike to the site carrying our stuff. There’s no burning and no running water. It’s really going to be a pain in the ass.”

Dean cringed at his friends words. No water. No fire. Damn. May as well sleep on a park bench… it’d be more civilized. But, this was an adventure, right? He tried to keep that in mind. As they moved closer to San Francisco, they were swallowed up in the outlying towns. It became increasingly difficult to navigate as things he’d seen on TV caught his attention and pulled his eyes from the road. Cas had to remind him that they had time to sight-see later.

The daylight was fading when they crossed their first big bridge… the one that took them from Oakland across the bay and into the heart of San Francisco. It was hard not to jaw-drop as they crossed and Dean could see the gears turning in Cas’ head. He knew that his friend was itching to pull out a sketch pad and draw the grandeur that towered above them. It was a big moment for both of them. Dreams of the coast were within reach at this moment and Dean found himself breathing heavily, as if exerted, barely able to hold back his excitement.

Driving in San Francisco was exciting but overwhelming. They moved through the city, Cas navigating from a map on his phone, and Dean struggling to keep his eyes on the road while more interesting sights and sounds enveloped them.

Since they’d pushed through and gotten here early, they were a day early for their reservation at the campground. They’d have to spend the night somewhere else and head there tomorrow. Dean was aching to say “fuck it” to their penny counting and just splurge on a nice hotel and a night on the town to celebrate having made it this far. Just as he was about to mention this notion to Cas, his friend said, “get off up here… this exit… Ceasar Chavez.”

Dean worked to move into the outer lane and slowed as they approached the ramp, “Where are we headed, Cas?”

“I found us a room for the night.”

“Tell me more,” coaxed Dean as he followed the car in front of him along the exit ramp.

“We have to backtrack, but I found a hostel that has private rooms for $45.”

“You gonna call?”

“No, I’m gonna get us there,” laughed Cas as he gestured to his phone, “go right, up here.”

Dean let Cas navigate them through the city streets, parallel to the interstate as they headed back North. When they passed under the 101 and came out on the other side they made a left. There were so many one way streets that it was difficult to get to where they wanted to be. Once they were there… they had to loop several blocks before they found a place to park.

As they grabbed their duffle bags from the trunk and locked up, Dean huffed, “I hope they have a room for us,”

“Well,” replied Cas, “I was hoping for a private room. Their site says they have privates for $45. But if not, they have bunk rooms for $15. I figure we can splurge for a private tonight if they have one – just as a treat. And while we’re here, we can scope the place out. Maybe after our free camping is over a bunk room here will be a place to crash cheap until we find our loft.”

“Good thinkin' Cas,” said Dean as they walked down the narrow sidewalk. Dean loved how he could feel the energy of the city around him, even though this street was pretty small and fairly quiet.

“Hit the beach tomorrow?” asked Cas as they walked.

“Hell yeah,” grinned Dean, “What about you Cas… if we’re each pickin’ one thing to do tomorrow… what’s your thing?”

“Well, the beach, just like you. But since you already picked that, I guess I’d say the bridge. I want to walk it. Park the car and walk it.”

“The one we went over today?”

“No Dean, the Golden Gate.”

“Okay,” laughed Dean, “If you say,”

“What?”

“Nothing Cas, it’s just, the bridge is like two miles long. By the time we park and walk to it, cross it and come back, it’ll be over 5 miles.”

“Pussy.”

“No, I’ll do it,” he said with a smile, “but I’d rather sit comfortably and watch you draw it.”

As they pushed into the lobby of the AAE European Hostel on Minna Street, Dean crossed his fingers. And they were in luck. There was a private room available and he watched Cas swipe his card for it. They didn’t linger in the lobby to join the lively conversation brewing. They headed up the mission style staircase and closed the door to the world.

It was small, room for the bed and the one small dresser with a television on it. It wasn’t much. It didn’t need to be. Bags hit the floor and two breaths later, shorts and tees were on the floor too. The boys flopped into the bed together and put hands to each other. Their bodies scrambled to get closer and their lips locked. Both were moaning as they kicked down the comforter and found cool sheets, naked skin silky to the touch. Dean didn’t care that they were dirty from days of travel. Cas still smelled good to him and his fingers curled into the boy’s hair. All summer with no haircut… it had grown long. The blue tips he’d had when he’d arrived at Winchester Farms had long ago faded. Dean grasped handfuls of it and pushed the boy down beneath him, shoving his way between his legs, overcome with passion.

They’d been in the car together for so long, but only had one sexual release. Cas’ attempt to service Dean while driving had been met with, “Don’t. I don’t wanna wreck my car.”

“Don’t you want my mouth on you Dean?” Cas had questioned.

“No way can I keep Baby on the road with your mouth on me, Cas.”

Now, in a soft bed behind a closed door, it was like Chicago had been. Just the two of them together and all night to do whatever they wanted. And what they wanted… was to wear each other out. Dean sucked on Cas’ neck, loving the salty taste of it and thrilling that there would be no one to see the mark and judge them in the morning. They were on their own. This was it… the beginning of their lives together.

Cas called out for Dean as he rocked his hips upward into his lover and smiled into the kisses that followed. Soon Dean was working lower – his lips trailing down over neck and chest before finally latching on to a sensitive nipple.

“Bite it Dean,” whispered Cas. And he did, loving the way his friends back bowed beneath him. “Fuck!” yelled Cas, as Dean bit down and then sucked hard. It didn’t take long for them to begin reaching between their tummy’s, touching with hands now well practiced in bringing each other off. “Do you have any?” asked Cas, referring to lube.

“Yeah,” laughed Dean into his neck, “Wasn’t leaving that behind for someone to find when they cleaned out my room!”

“Get it,” Cas whispered urgently, “Please Dean,” he begged with no pride, “Please Dean, I need you inside me.”

Dean fumbled himself over the edge of the bed and braced his arm on the floor as his free hand rummaged through this duffle. It took far too long to find what he needed. When he shimmied back up into the bed with Cas, his friend was all over him. He was attacked by hands and mouth as he was man-handled into the sheets. Cas was demanding as he pushed his way on top of Dean and before he could even register what was happening, Cas had snatched the bottle from his hands and was flicking the cap open.

Dean looked up, dazed, as Cas straddled him and then his jaw dropped as he watched Cas’ arms disappear behind himself. Since he felt nothing on his swollen cock, there was no mystery as to where Cas’ hands were. Dean wished he could see it… knowing that Cas was pushing fingers in his own hole was enthralling and Dean couldn’t keep quiet.

“Cas, wanna see…” he mumbled as his sluggish limbs worked to displace Cas from above him.

“No,” said Cas firmly, pressing a slippery hand to Dean’s chest and keeping him horizontal, “Let me Dean. You’ll like it, I promise.”

Trusting Cas, Dean relented and let his head fall back on a pillow. Cas was always an enticing sight, but now… with his unkempt hair and his glassy eyes… the boy’s chest heaving as he fingered himself open… he was like dessert. Edible. Dean licked his lips and ached to suck on something… preferably a dick but fingers would do. Even a neck. Anything.

Cas seemed to sense his desperation. Dean felt his boy begin to rock in response. He began rolling his hips with the movement and found himself tantalized by how close his cock was getting to the area Cas was working on. He felt his tip bump a few times… was that a hand? A butt cheek? He couldn’t tell. He groaned in frustration as Cas perched on him and readied himself.

And then it happened. Dean closed his eyes as he felt a slippery hand on his stiff cock. “Yes, Cas, Yes,” he mumbled as Cas lined up and began pushing down on him. Dean could feel the boy’s tightness bending his shaft as he forced his weight onto it.

A heavy moment later and the resistance was breached. Cas plunged down on him. They both cursed as Dean’s tip passed through the restrictive entrance and slid deep, way too fast. Cas sat back on it, feeling himself stretched wide and gritting his teeth as the searing pain cut through his pleasure. He sucked in a deep breath. He was raw and stinging and he knew he should’ve spent longer getting himself ready… but it was impossible to wait. He felt like he’d been waiting his entire life for this moment. There was nothing else. Just this night with Dean. He looked down at his partner. Dean was gone – just gone. His mouth was locked open and his eyes were fixated on something far away… glassy in the dark. Cas waited a few moments, letting them both adjust to this mind-blowing feeling.

When he began to move, Cas felt Dean’s hands clamp down on his hips, “don’t Cas…” he begged, “don’t move… I can’t…”

Dean was holding his breath, hoping this wasn’t about to be over before it started. He couldn’t look at Cas, the sight would be his undoing and he knew it. The boy was towering above him, and Dean looked straight past him, forcing his eyes to lock on the light fixture overhead. He tried to get his breathing under control. His heartbeat was pumping in his ears and inside his stomach he could feel the swirling that would soon rush lower and erupt from his tip. He willed himself to relax and be still.

When he felt fingers on his chin, he opened his eyes. Cas was looking down at him with curious eyes and Dean, feeling more controlled, gave his boy the nod. With that, Cas began to move. Dean’s hands slid from hips to thighs and he loved how it felt to grip the boy as he rose and fell, dragging his clenching hole up and down over Dean’s throbbing cock.

Cas was a sight. His mouth was open wide and his breathing was labored. Dean did his best to hang on and not cum too soon, keeping his eyes closed for the most part. When he peeked, his stomach back-flipped at the mere sight of Cas. His body was practically bouncing up and down, picking up speed and force with each thrust. Dean felt Cas take his hands, guiding them towards his own heavily swollen cock that was bobbing over Dean’s belly. He instantly grasped it and began to stroke.

“Fuck yeah, Cas!” Dean called as he watched Cas’ heavy cock slide through his own hands. And that was it… with a gasp, Dean felt his body lurch and his cum empty into Cas. He garbled Cas’ name as it happened and felt a few spatters hit his face and chest as his boy came right along with him.

When Cas finally pulled off and fell into the circle of Dean’s arms, he kissed Dean’s soft lips and licked away the smudges of cum he’d launched onto his boy’s face.

“That was incredible,” gushed Dean between kisses.

They didn’t linger in the waking world for long. A few sighs as they hunkered down into the sheets and got comfortable... and then they both fell easily asleep. It wasn’t until the middle of the night when Cas woke to pee that he extricated himself from Dean’s grip. In the bathroom down the hall, he washed the sticky off his hands and cleaned himself up.

The next morning, both very fulfilled, they took the last hot shower they’d have for several days. Then, they went to the front desk and made reservations for the following week, to take two bunks in a shared room. After their days of free camping were up, they’d return here and share a small room with two other guys until they found a place of their own.


	15. A New Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it... the last chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ravenwolf36 for all her help with this... and for only once making fun of my horrible grammar. :)

Dean was watching Cas. He was sitting on his bunk with sunshine lighting up half his face, the other half swathed in cool shadow. The room was quiet, their bunkmates having headed out an hour ago to see the sights. Fresh from the shower, Dean leaned in the doorway and watched Cas’ intense scowl of concentration as he worked his pencil over rough paper. With his pad cradled in his lap, Cas was oblivious to him as he lingered on the periphery and watched his boy sketch feverishly.

They’d been in the city for several weeks now. The room they occupied was feeling like home, despite the many occupants of the other two bunks who came and went. At first, they’d thought they’d be sacrificing alone time by sharing a room. But that hadn’t proven to be the case. They were usually alone if they were in the room during the day… so they tended to be last out of bed. They’d linger until that day’s roommates left, and then they’d have some time. Some days, when they were certain they’d be alone for an extended period, they’d take their time and make love slow; or they’d have dirty marathon sex complete with pictures to remember it by. Other times, they’d just have quick hand jobs before heading out into the city.

Their first few days had been unproductive. Getting from their tent to the car took time. Finding parking at their destination took time. Finding meals they could afford took time. Everything took more time and energy than expected. When they’d checked back into the hostel, it was a relief to not have to lose so much of their day to hiking in and out of their free campsite and getting across the bridge and back into the city.

Nothing was what Dean had expected it to be. First and foremost – it was cooler than he’d expected. He found himself wearing jeans most days instead of shorts despite the fact that it was still the tail end of summer.

Secondly, the beaches were beautiful but they weren’t for swimming. Mostly the beaches were for laying around on the sand and watching Cas as he drew the rocky shore, crashing waves and people he thought were interesting. The water was too dangerous in most places for doing much more than wading. Only experienced surfers were foolish enough to swim out into these waters which were plagued with rip tides and dangerous rocks.

Third, it was expensive.  He’d been prepared for the rent to be high, but he’d been unprepared for how relentless it would be. EVERYTHING was expensive. The food. The gas. Even city bus tickets. Everything.

Dean had known it would be beautiful here too. But he had not been expecting this _kind_ of beauty. His mind had supplied him with images of palm trees and sunsets over the ocean. But what he’d found upon arrival was quite different. The beauty was in the landscape all around him… even when he was nowhere near the beach. That, and the architecture.  Even in the more run down areas, the buildings were incredibly detailed and stunning to look at.  They were surrounded by natural beauty and the elevation changes from block to block only accented it more.  Sometimes you’d just be walking along, huffing and puffing because you’d been hiking uphill for so long.  Then, out of nowhere, you’d find yourself looking out over the bay or the ocean or the city with a postcard view that you just had to stop and savor.  Or, you’d be trucking along and suddenly cross a street and look downhill to see the pastel buildings falling away from you and a cable car climbing closer. Everywhere they went, Dean found himself snapping pictures for his Mom.  He just knew she’d love this place.

But the most incredible sight in all of San Francisco? Cas drawing San Francisco.

His friend had his backpack with him always.  When they’d happen across something he wanted to draw he’d just drop down, out of the foot traffic, and sketch it out.  He was quick about it.  He’d lay down a simple line drawing, usually in ten minutes or less, then he’d close up his book and move on.

Then later, from bed or couch or plastic booth at Burger King, he’d fill in the depth and texture with shading. Which is what he guessed his lover was doing now… taking some simple image from a previous day and making it into the kind of picture that would hold a viewer’s attention for several minutes.

Most of their time here had been spent exploring the city as they worked to find a place to call home and the means to support themselves.  They marveled over everything together, often linking hands as they walked. It was very liberating to be in an area so accepting of them.  Not just out on the streets, but even in the hostel. Surrounded by people their age in the common areas… they were seldom the only same sex couple. It was sweet relief to be able to touch Cas whenever he wanted.  Put a hand on his shoulder as they talked or consulted a map, on his thigh when they watched TV or on his back as the boy settled on a bench or curb to sketch out something intriguing that had caught his attention.

They’d looked at many, many possible lofts.  Some were better than others.  None were affordable.  Cas’ face had lit up when they’d looked at the one that was part of an old church. Some windows were clear and some were stained glass.  The brick and wood were warm textures and with so much natural light they were inviting spaces despite their lack of appointments and creature comforts.  It was easy to see why Cas had been dreaming of living in a space like this. Even the shitty ones they’d seen were desirable.  Unfortunately, even the cheapest they’d found were thousands of dollars per month.

They’d been looking for work and had found that there was lots to be had.  There just weren’t any that would pay them well enough to afford any of the lofts they’d looked at. Two jobs each would be necessary to even consider the kind of place they wanted. Dean had found a full time job with a construction company.  At first he’d thought they’d have plenty of money.  It was $16 per hour just to start. But when he’d done the math on the rent, utilities and expenses he’d realized his father had been right.  The money they’d brought with them would get them into a place, but they wouldn’t be able to keep it up.    They’d likely fold and go home sooner than later.  But for Cas, Dean was willing to try it.  He’d work his ass off.  And he’d do it solely for the privilege of watching Cas live his dream; if only for a few months.

Dean watched his friend sketching on his bunk, and realized he was just lingering in the doorway with a towel around his waist. He stepped all the way into the room then and shut the door behind him.

“I know I said I wanted to leave by 9 but just give me a few more minutes,” husked Cas without looking up from his work.

“No rush, Cas, it’s Saturday.” Dean didn’t relish the thought of returning to work on Monday.  But it could be worse. The guys on his crew had given him a little shit the first week, but they were starting to accept him. The work wasn’t challenging, just nerve racking.  It didn’t matter if he had on a safety harness… being several stories up and buffeted by the wind as you worked was difficult to tolerate.

Cas had tried to get a job with the same contractor, but the guy only had one opening on his crew and had met Dean first. Cas had a job waiting tables in an upscale restaurant, but his first day wouldn’t be until the following week.  Initially he’d felt the job wasn’t worth his time since the pay was so low.  But Ernie, the manager of the hostel, had told Cas he’d likely do very well in tips. So he’d agreed.

When he saw Cas drop his legs over the side of the bunk and tuck his book into his bag, Dean forced himself to stop dripping from under his towel and actually get dressed. “Where are we going today?” he asked as they both tugged on pants.

“Um… I’d rather keep it for a surprise,” said Cas with a mischievous grin.

Dean nodded, wondering at the possibilities.  They’d been to the zoo. He’d thought that would be a waste of an afternoon and 50 bucks.  But Cas had been right; they’d had a fantastic time. They’d also been to see Alcatraz which, combined with the boat ride, had been very cool and yielded some excellent pictures to send to their family and friends back home. They’d even taken a ride on a cable car.  What could Cas have in mind for today?  He glanced across the room at his man who was looking hot with his disheveled sex hair and tight jeans.

When they’d dressed, they bounded down the stairs and picked over the last offerings of the complimentary breakfast.  But, having lingered in their room to fuck, they’d missed the good stuff and now had to settle for scraps.

Heading out onto the street, Dean caught his buzz.  His daily buzz.  It was generated by the city around them and no matter the hour, when he stepped out onto a sidewalk here, he could feel it.  Good thing too… because they usually had to walk quite a ways to get to where they’d parked Baby. And in this city… you were never just walking on a flat surface like back home. It was always either uphill or down. Their legs were getting stronger because of it.

Parking, was a bitch too. When they came back to their room, they’d usually spend 10 to 20 minutes circling block after block until they found a vacant space. Then they’d hike to their building.  Each day, they’d have to remember where they’d parked the previous day and hike back to the car. The same thing happened when they reached their destination.  The hunt for parking was an endless and daunting task.  Dean loved his Baby, but sometimes he wondered if the others weren’t smarter. The vast majority of those they met at the hostel had no car. They simply took public transport everywhere.

As they turned the corner at 7th Street, they were assailed by a heavenly scent. Dean’s mouth watered and his stomach snarled. Yeah. That was another thing that sucked about being in the city. Everywhere they went, they encountered delicious smells coming from fantastic eateries.  But they didn’t have the money to eat in any of those places.  Their budget was stretched far too thin just keeping themselves fed at the lower end places.  They hit Burger King, Subway and Carl’s Junior most often because they were in walking distance of the hostel.  They also kept non-perishables like bread, peanut butter and jelly in their room to defray the relentless cost of eating out twice a day.

Often, the city felt like a tease to Dean.  It was full of things he wanted but couldn’t have… upper scale shopping and gourmet food that they couldn’t afford, festivals and shows they couldn’t buy tickets to and bars they weren’t old enough to drink in.  Most of all? Dozens and dozens of dreamy lofts that Dean wanted to secure for his talented boyfriend; none of which were more than a pipe dream.

When they located baby and climbed in, Cas tossed his bag into the back seat and slid across next to Dean. He watched as Cas tuned in the radio and began nodding along to a familiar tune. “I’m all for surprises,” chuckled Dean as he draped his arm around Cas’ shoulders and maneuvered out of the small space, “but I need to know how to get where we’re going.”

“I can’t remember the name of the street… but it’s the one we take to get to Golden Gate Park?”

“Um, I don’t remember the name of it either, but I know how to get there,” replied Dean, taking a right.

“Good,” said Cas as he parted from Dean to roll down his window and then leaned back into him again. It took over forty minutes in grueling traffic before Cas caught sight of Masonic Avenue and was finally able to say, “Go right here.”

Dean grinned as he took the corner, “Where we headed Cas?” he teased, “You’re dying to tell me.  It’s all over your face.  C’mon… where we goin'?”

Cas was looking past Dean’s face and out his window, not answering as he watched the buildings change and saw the first indications of Campus come into view. “Make a left on Turk,” said Cas as he reached over the seat back and pulled his backpack into his lap.

Dean followed Cas’ navigation without much thought until they rumbled by a well-manicured lawn with the letters USF spelled out in the landscaping.  The look on Cas’ face told him this was their destination. He frowned as he contemplated why they were here and followed his friend’s directions until they’d found parking.

As they climbed out of the car and locked their doors, Dean caught Cas’ eye over the hood of the Impala. His boy had a wide Cheshire cat grin and a beautiful blush coloring his cheeks. “Relax Dean,” he joked as he led the way, “we’re just tourists today. No one’s going to tie you to a chair and force you to work math equations.”

Cas had notes scribbled on a sheet of paper and Dean watched him read over them as he figured out where they needed to go.  Dean wasn’t sure why they were here… maybe there was an art show Cas wanted to go to? He just plodded along enjoying the change of scenery and didn’t think too much about it until they ambled up to a desk and signed in. Looking around, Dean recognized the setting.  This was a campus tour.  He’d done several with his mom. He hadn’t chosen community college ‘sight unseen’.  He’d taken all three of the ‘skip days’ allowed by his high school for college visits.  University of Kansas had been the best one they’d taken. But ultimately, it had been decided that a Criminal Justice Degree would be equally viable whether it came from a community college or a university.  And his parents, always pragmatic, had helped him see the virtue of keeping his college debt lower by entering the more affordable program.

Cas was looking mischievous and rather than wonder what his friend was thinking, Dean preferred to simply enjoy the coy looks Cas was giving him. His boy was full of smirks and winks and his electric blue eyes lit Dean up from the inside out. He looked around as their group moved slowly around the campus. His predominant thought was one he eventually whispered to Cas, “Man, KU’s got nothin' on USF.”

Cas nodded and smiled and linked their hands as they moved to the southwest corner of campus and toured the dorms. When the tour concluded, they took their complimentary vouchers over to the bookstore and got free coffee and pastries.

Standing at a tiny table, Dean said, “Okay, Cas, what gives.”

“What?” barked Cas defensively, “You said Saturday was my choice… and this is how I wanted to spend it.”

“And what about now? What’s next?” asked Dean as he sipped his steaming drink.

“I’m going to fill out my application. I was hoping you might feel like doing the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly, looking down at his boyfriend’s long fingers while they picked nervously at his Danish. “What is this, Cas?”

“A possibility,” he said softly, looking up to meet Dean’s eye. “If you want, I mean, I know you blew off school to come here.  So did I.  But now that we’re here… I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Why?” Dean asked him, not letting his blue eyed angel look away.

“You’re working construction Dean.  And I’m going to be a waiter? And even with that… you’ll still have to get a second job for us to afford a loft.  And when we’re both busting our asses to pay the rent… will I even have time to use the space?  To draw and paint and sculpt?”

“I get what you’re saying Cas.  I’ve been thinking it too.  This dream is expensive.  But I want you to have it.  If I have to work construction, if I have to work two jobs, I’m fine with that.  I’ll do it.  For you.”

Cas smiled sweetly at his fortitude and said, “I know you will. But I don’t want you to have to.” It was quiet for a moment before Cas continued, “Your Dad told me that if I didn’t go to school I’d have to earn my living with my hands and not my mind. He was right. That’s exactly what we’re going to be doing.  And as much as I want to have a loft and be an artist… I don’t want it bad enough to watch you sell yourself short for me.  I just don’t. That’s not my dream Dean.”

“You’re not selling me that short Cas, I was never the smart one.  That was always Sammy.”

Cas rolled his eyes, “You got good grades in highschool.”

“Yeah. I mostly took easy classes; just the minimums that you have to take for college.”

“Let’s apply Dean.  Let’s apply here and anywhere else you want to… let’s see what happens.”

“I don’t want you giving up on your dream just because of something my Dad said.”

“First of all, your Dad was right about school.  So was mine.  I can see that now.  And second of all, my dream was…” Cas’ voice trailed off.

“What?” prodded Dean.

“Small,” said Cas firmly with a nod, obviously satisfied with his choice of words, “It was a small dream. I didn’t realize it until now, but it was just a small piece of a bigger dream.  And that bigger dream is my _new_ dream.”

Dean loved the way Cas looked at that moment. So full of promise and hope and enthusiasm. “Tell me,” Dean urged him, “Tell me the new dream Cas.”

“It’s you Dean. It’s the life I’m going to have with you.”

Dean had to work hard to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat. In the silence that followed Cas pressed on, “Maybe someday we’ll have a loft together and I’ll sit by the window and paint you… all spread out naked in our giant bed. But first, I think I’ll have a few years crammed into a tiny dorm with you.  Sitting on the edge of a crappy single bed and cranking out shitty sketches of you drooling on your pillow and scratching your ass.”

“I don’t…”

“You do Dean. In your sleep. All the time.”

“I don’t…”

“You do.”

“Damn it Cas,” barked Dean, fighting his own grin as he picked up his things, “Keep your voice down with that shit.”

“Where are you going?” asked Cas as he rushed to put his things in his bag and catch up with Dean.

“Back to the room,” he said smartly, “clearly we’ve got some paperwork to do.”

Cas walked briskly beside Dean as they crossed the campus back towards the lot where they’d parked Baby.  The two chatted lightly about the buildings around them and the possibilities of going to school here.  Cas was certain that he wanted to do something creative for his career… but he had no solid path. He told Dean about the conversation with Mary where she’d encouraged him to be undecided… to let life surprise him.  Dean couldn’t help but smile at hearing his Mother’s words coming from Cas. And, he got a flood of warm feelings as he imagined calling her and telling her he was going to go to college after all. It would make her proud, he was certain of it.

Dean was also surprised by how easily Cas was able to get him to consider the possibility of a career in education. Prompted by Cas’ probing questions, their tour guide had given them an overview of a five year program that would impart it’s participants with a BA as well as a Masters of Arts in Teaching and a preliminary California teaching credential.

He had to admit that he liked the idea of teaching a lot better than the idea of being a cop. But more than that… he loved the idea of himself as a coach. He could imagine being called “coach” and he could envision himself on the sidelines… cheering on his team, giving them instructions and helping them see the best in themselves. He’d be teaching them to work together… teaching them to win. 

As they drove back through the city they continued to converse about possible futures and the kind of life they’d have as students. When they’d arrived, they scoured the streets around the hostel looking for a parking space, still talking enthusiastically about all the possibilities. Dean found himself feeling better than he had in weeks.  

In one afternoon, Cas had somehow breathed him full of excitement for his future.  He was elated, like he’d been when Cas had first mentioned going to California. He’d immediately wanted to go. Now Cas was proposing another adventure. One four or five years in the making… school.

He sat for hours with Cas that night filling out their applications. Then he put in a call to his Mom. When she’d stopped gushing to him about how proud she was, she settled in and talked him through going online and updating his FAFSA for the schools in Cali that he was planning to apply at.

Cas had urged Dean to plan on both of them being denied for USF since the school only had a 60% acceptance rate. For the next few weeks, they worked through the applications process at several possible schools including community college.

The weekdays were long, Dean worked hard all day and came home tired. Then when he got back to the room, Cas was getting ready to leave for work.  By the time Cas got home again, Dean was already in bed since his workday started early. “It’s still an hour later than I used to sleep,” he’d joke, referring to doing chores on the farm. Though they didn’t have much time together on the weekdays, they still had the weekends together. And, it was nice to replenish their dwindling savings with actual paychecks. They were able to use Cas’ tip money, which was a nightly influx of cash, to support their meals and incidental expenses and that slowed down the rate at which they were depleting their nest egg. Also, Cas often brought home leftovers that made Dean groan sex noises as he ate.

One day, in late September, Dean retrieved the mail at the front desk to find an envelope with the return address of USF. He sat down in the lobby, knowing his admission was unlikely, and opened the letter so Cas wouldn’t have to watch his face as he absorbed his denial. He read five words, “We’re pleased to inform you…” and then he leapt up and ran for the stairs. He took them two at a time and was shouting as he shoved through the door to their room. Cas gaped at him as he was pulled down from the top bunk.

“I’m in! I’m in!” Dean shouted, “I’m fucking IN!”

Cas wrapped his arms tightly around Dean, “Congratulations,” he breathed, “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too! We’re going to USF!” he yelled excitedly, “We’re going to USF!”

“I’m not in yet,” reminded Cas solemnly, “We agreed we’d only go to a school that would take both of us.”

“You’ll be in. I was the weak link here, Cas.  Not you.”

“I may have had better grades, but I’ve been in trouble Dean. It’s not a sure thing for me.”

“Okay,” said Dean softly, not wanting to argue, “But we have to celebrate! Where are we going tonight?”

They ate a good dinner at a place nearby that always smelled amazing when they walked by.  Dean imagined it was the kind of place they’d be eating at all the time when they were out of school, living and working in the bay area.  When they’d finished, they took Baby down to Golden Gate Park, locked her up, and meandered down to the water there.  There was hardly anyone on the beach once the sunset was over. In the moonlight, they took off their shoes and socks and wandered along, letting their toes dig into the cool, damp sand and passing a joint back and forth between them.

“Cas, what do you say we upgrade to a private room this weekend? Just as a celebration?”

“That sounds nice Dean, I’d like that.”

It’s not like they couldn’t find alone time in a shared room.  But the thought of sleeping together again… being in the same bed all night… that’s what was enticing about a private.

“Wish it was tonight,” said Dean over the roar of the surf, “I want you Cas.”

“I want you too, Dean,” he answered as they turned to face each other. Dean smiled as he watched Cas’ large eyes focus on his lips. He looked so hopeful for a kiss that it couldn’t be denied. They slipped closer, sealing hungry mouths tightly, while Dean’s arms wrapped around Cas’ waist so his hands could cup those perfect ass cheeks. The embrace was long and the two clung to each other as an icy gush of salt water rolled up around their ankles.

The walk back to the car was a long one. Neither boy had realized how far they’d really wandered until it was time to turn back. They cleaned up their feet as best they could in the dark and put socks and shoes back on. Dean glanced over at Cas a few times as they traveled through the darkened city. When they finally got back to Minna Street, they lucked out. There was a parking spot right in front of the building. Dean let out a low whistle as he guided his baby into the spot. “It’s my lucky day,” he chuckled, “If my luck holds, they’ll have a private available now and I’ll get laid tonight.”

Cas took Dean’s hand as they walked in and waited patiently at the desk for the night man to check for a room. They both laughed out loud when he said, “You’re in luck.”

They entered the shared room quietly so as not to disturb their bunkmates. They tip toed around to collect their things and then walked up two flights of stairs to their newly upgraded, private bed.

Much like their first night in the city… they weren’t clean. They literally dumped sand out onto the floor when they took of their socks. Dean was salty under Cas’ tongue. They clawed at each other’s clothes, tossing everything to the floor recklessly. Before Dean could even think of what he wanted to do between the cool sheets of their bed, Cas was on him.

“Oh yes,” cooed Dean as his hands settled into Cas’ long locks and gripped tightly. Cas licked a wide stripe up the outside of his cock before unleashing one of the wilder blow jobs he’d ever given. Shivers skittered up his spine as his boy took him deep and thrust downward, impaling himself on Dean’s swelling package.

“M’gonna fuck you so good tonight,” he promised as he ran his fingernails over Cas’ scalp. “Yeah Cas,” he praised as his boy shoved himself down hard enough to gag, “Oh fuck yeah.”

As he was worked over, Dean was reaching with his free hand to the duffle bag nearby. When his fingers wrapped around a bottle of lube, he shoved the bag to the floor and popped the cap. The noise was loud in the small room and having heard it, Cas began working his legs up towards Dean’s head, “Suck me Dean,” he garbled with a mouthful of dick, “Suck me off good.”

Dean reached forward, pulling Cas’ groin to him and locking them into a sixty-nine position. With Cas’ mouth hot on his cock, Dean slicked up two fingers and traced them down his boy’s crack. As it happened, he felt the cock in his mouth grow larger and it flipped his stomach with excitement. Hot damn… he loved having a hard dick sliding between his lips. Cas seemed to sense his mood and began thrusting his hips forward, fucking into Dean’s mouth.

Dean could feel Cas’ warm skin and soft peach fuzz under his finger tips and loved how his boy’s butt would clench with each thrust. He pressed a slick finger to Cas’ puckered entrance and waited patiently. Soon, as his boy rocked hips, the hole fluttered open enough for him to press in a finger. As he fucked that finger in and out, he felt Cas pick up the pace on Dean’s cock and heard his boy groan in pleasure. Soon he was able to slip in another.

Cas was starting to lose his rhythm already; so Dean tugged his bottom arm free enough to wrap a hand around the base of Cas’ cock and squeeze. “No way,” he whispered, “Not yet. I have so much more to do before you can come.”

His words seemed to ignite a fire in Cas. The boy bucked under his hands and mouth and began cursing. It was the intrusion of a third finger that quieted him and pulled a whisper of “yes,” from his contented lover.

When Dean managed to put in a fourth finger, he had to fight the urge to flip his boy over and lay into him. But he waited, letting his fingers explore and feeling the twinges when the boy would involuntarily contract at the brush of his sweet spot.

His cock immediately went cold when Cas took his talented mouth away from it. It was spit slick and shiny in the silvery moonlight that filled their room. Dean watched, rapt, as Cas rearranged himself to be fucked. “Dean…” he whispered.

“I’ve got you,” Dean reassured him as he moved up behind his lover who was now a tripod on the bed… shoulders down on the mattress and ass in the air just begging to be violated.

It felt like slow motion as Dean watched his hands settle on those cheeks and pull them apart. It was a sight to see that hole, so tight before, now open and ready for him.  Even still, as he moved his dick into position, it looked like it was too big for its destination.  He smiled as he pushed in and heard Cas’ answering moan get swallowed up into the pillow.

He gave only a short moment for them to adjust before he snapped his hips forward and buried himself in his boy. Their rhythm was fast and his hands gripped tightly as his eyes roved over the perfect display spread over his cock. It was tantalizing to watch himself disappearing into Cas. It felt like Cas’ body was actually pulling him in. Pulling back out was like swimming against the current. It was a challenge to pull back, but when he did, he was rewarded with the sight of his swollen cock, hard and wet. And then, he’d get to watch it sink in again. Feel the constricting heat and pressure of his boy around him… swallowing him up.

Before he even considered what his hands were doing, they’d slid forward on the push and wrapped around Cas’ middle. Then, as he pulled back, feeling the drag of Cas’ body trying to hang on to him, he pulled Cas upward into a sitting position.

Now, with both of them vertical, Dean sat back on his heels with his front to Cas’ back. In this position, he was free to suckle at the boys neck, right under the hair line and whisper in his ear as he rolled his dick in and out. He could reach around and get a hand wrapped around Cas’ dick and stroke it.

With one arm around the boy’s waist and one hand busy on his lovers heated cock, they locked together. Cas grasped him tightly too – holding the arm that was holding him and resting a hand on Dean’s thigh. It was a slower build this way and it traded a few minutes of dirty fucking for a few minutes of tender loving.

But soon, too soon, Cas was pulling away. He was leaning forward and stretching out for Dean… opening himself up to harder fucking. And Dean didn’t hold back. He thrust hard again, loving the sound of his flesh slapping against the taut skin of his lover. When Cas started begging… giving him a please on each pull back, he let loose. He couldn’t fuck hard enough. Cas took it too… letting his body be worked up the bed by Dean’s powerful thrusts.

When he felt his stomach drop and his balls pull up, he reached around and grabbed Cas’ dick again, holding it tightly and trying to focus on jerking his boy as he pulsed out hot cum. It was erratic at best, but Cas only encouraged him by adding his own hand and helping pull himself over the edge.

When they collapsed forward into the wet spot, Dean managed to huff out a few praises for his friend as he wrapped the boy in his arms and curled up behind him, sweaty and sated. Their hearts were bounding as they laid there together and before they even came down, Dean was already whispering, “I’m so happy Cas.”

“Me too Dean,” Cas replied softly.

It was only a week later that they found themselves celebrating again. Cas was also accepted. Shortly after that, they received confirmation of their housing. They’d requested to be roommates, and it looked like that was going to happen. They’d be starting next fall.

Shortly after that, they upgraded to a private room permanently. The cost of it was manageable on their income and they’d figured it was cheaper than actually securing an apartment and furnishing it. The thought of buying furniture only to have to sell it off or throw it away in less than a year didn’t sit well with either of them. Besides, they liked the AAE European. The hostel’s staff were like friends at this point and the constant flux of travelers kept the place lively.

Now that they’d settled down and weren’t moving from room to room, they found themselves making it home. They bought a small microwave and dorm sized refrigerator that they’d use at college next year and began keeping more food around. Peanut butter sandwiches upgraded to cans of Spaghetti-O’s and Ravioli. They had cold soda and milk for cereal.

Their shifts never did line up… Dean working from 7–4 each day and Cas working from 5 til close most nights. But they still had the weekends together and the city around them was begging to be explored. When the holiday’s rolled around, they were both nervous and excited about returning to the mid-west.

Cas had been right when he’d told Dean that he’d feel free in Cali and find it difficult to lock that down and “play straight” back home. Dean was glad he didn’t have to. He’d been in regular contact with his friends and family… posting pictures to Facebook and messaging frequently… he even snap chatted pictures of the sights back to those stranded in farm country.

When their plane landed at the airport in Kansas City, Sammy ran to them and flopped into Dean’s arms like a six year old. A very heavy, very tall, very strong six year old. Over Sam’s shoulder, Dean saw his parents arm in arm and smiling from a dozen feet away.

When hugs were out of the way and bags were on shoulders, they’d marched to the van and talked a mile a minute all the way to the farm.

The boys stayed at the farm through Christmas Eve, when they did their big gift exchange. Then they stepped out into the cold and packed their things into the van. It was late when they pulled out of Winchester Farms and fat snowflakes were beginning to drift down. Despite the brewing snow storm, they made it to Chicago before dawn on Christmas Day. They spend the remainder of the holiday with Deacon. Cas showed Dean around his neighborhood and introduced him to old friends.

It was a very happy holiday and they got one more good meal with the Winchesters when they returned the van. As John shuttled them back to the airport, Dean told Sam how much he wanted his brother to visit them someday. When they said good-bye at the airport, Dean was already choked up from Mary’s desperate hug and Sammy’s tearful good-bye. So, he was unable to keep it together when John had gripped him tightly and whispered “I’m proud of you, son.” He’d had to wipe leaky eyes on his sleeve several times as he and Cas walked towards security and out of sight.

Most of the plane trip was spent talking about the fun they’d had. They marveled at how young all the high schoolers had looked, and Dean commented on how small the streets and houses had seemed in his hometown compared to San Francisco. The winter landscape of snow laden trees that had always seemed so magical in the past, now seemed flat and colorless compared to his new home on the coast.

Hanging with friends had been fun though, and seeing their families had been heartwarming. Especially Sammy. Dean couldn’t believe how much he’d grown and changed in such a short time. Ruby’s presence had been interesting. Cas noticed that Mary still hadn’t warmed to the girl. But she was still flawlessly polite to her. John seemed to also regard Ruby with a measure of distrust and dislike but Sam seemed happy so he didn’t think much of it. All in all, it had been a wonderful holiday.

When they touched down at the airport, the city was foggy. The flaring orange of the bridge towers poked out from the top of the low laying clouds like shark fins breaching the surface of water. If you didn’t know what lay underneath… the small bits that you could see wouldn’t look like much.

“Such a good trip, Dean,” sighed Cas as they walked through the terminal.

“Yep.”

“Sam’s gotten so big.”

“Mhmm”

“It was weird to get up early and do chores, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Cas as he noticed the one word answers and the constipated face Dean was wearing.

“M’fine.  Just missing everyone already, I guess.”

“Anything I can do?” asked Cas as he reached down to claim his bag from the carousel.

“I can think of a few things…” teased Dean as he pulled his own bag over his shoulder and waited for Cas to do the same.

Cas noticed that Dean was still a little quiet until he settled into the driver’s seat and felt Baby roar to life under him. At that point, he couldn’t help but smile. Cas smiled too as they backed out of their space.

“How are you Dean, really?” asked Cas as they drove out into the city.

Dean looked over at Cas. He was feeling tired and ready to crawl into their bed; spend a night just watching TV and touching each other on commercials. “I’m fine…” he said softly, “Glad to be back.”

And it _was_ good to be back. It was a pain in the ass to park as usual, but it was good to be back. The winter was cold and rainy. Dean’s job outdoors was hard and Cas’ was stressful. But when spring came, it found them marveling at the city again as it came to life around them.

But this time, they actually had a few bucks to stop at good food trucks and restaurants when they were out and about. They could splurge a little and buy tickets to the music and art festival that Cas was dying to go to. It was nice. Life was good.

They still had a little money left in the bank when campus move-in day rolled around. They packed up their clothes and microwave and mini fridge as well as the few supplies they’d bought and drove Baby across town to USF. The campus was alive and thrumming with activity… much more than the calm Saturday afternoon when they’d toured the school. Dean was all smiles as he and Cas carried their belongings up three flights of stairs and spent hours pushing everything around to try and determine the best layout for their dorm. Unlike most of the neighboring rooms, they wanted their beds close. They wound up pushing the two beds together into one.

But, as they soon found out, when you’re balls deep in your lover and thrusting madly, the two beds will push apart without warning and drop four knees to the cold tile floor. Amidst curses and laughter, they plotted a better system… one that would eventually bind their beds together. They wound up using the kind of chains that residents used to lock their bikes up. It worked well. The chains bound the legs of the beds tightly and kept them together regardless of how legendary the fuck.

The first day of class was incredible for both of them. Dean already had new friends with him at his lunch table when he waved over his boyfriend. As he set his tray of food down on the table, Cas was introduced and joined in easily. Cas told Dean that he loved his Art Survey class and both of them marveled at how good the food was. There was so much good food that it had been difficult to choose what to eat. Their friends didn’t seem to notice, but since Dean and Cas had been eating fast food, peanut butter and jelly for about a year… it was heaven. They ate their fill and grabbed ice cream cones on their way out.

That afternoon, Dean stopped in the library on his way back from his last class and signed up for a free tutor to help him with his math. The library was an incredible building. He loved the feel of it and he could see himself spending time there. This was nothing like the high school library back home.

As he crossed the campus back towards his dorm, he took a deep breath and savored the feeling of belonging. More than ever, he had the sense that this was where he was meant to be. That this was where THEY were meant to be.

When he entered his room, Cas was perched on their giant bed. He was sketching in his book while Silversun Pickups played softly in the background. When he looked up and smiled at Dean, eyes all wide and hopeful, a little piece of his heart just broke for how much he loved this boy. He dropped his book bag on the chair by the door and flopped down on the bed. He exhaled deep breath and said, “I love our new dream, Cas.”

Cas flipped to a new page in his sketch book and began outlining Dean’s form – sprawled comfortably beside him on their bed. “I love you, Dean,” he smiled.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought?


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